


Judge Me

by heartbeathurtsnomore



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 41,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbeathurtsnomore/pseuds/heartbeathurtsnomore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle at the prison was a massacre. The Governor came away with a victory and Rick and Judith are the only survivors. He flees along with the nightmares raging in his head. He's confronted with someone who he's convinced is a ghost from his nightmares and who he believes has come to bring about a reckoning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Descension

**Author's Note:**

> So...Here's a different type of Walking Saints fic. Not sure if anyone will like it. I've always seen ones with Daryl and Connor and the brothers and Daryl but here I am hoping to try something new. Hopefully y'all like it. Well we'll see. And please don't hate me for what I've done. *hides under desk*

He had lost them all. All of them. They were all gone. He tried to get the images out of his head, the screams out of his ears. The bullets had flown so rapidly he was sure he had gone blind. His head was about ready to explode, his body was almost broken. He wasn't even sure where he was all he knew was that he was surrounded by water. Harsh water that fell atop the crashing waves. It was supposed to be soothing, he was supposed to be comforted but the nightmares filling his head refused to give him that peace.

He could hear the babies crying from beside him but he couldn't bring himself to wake up. The fear was clutching onto so tightly he feared he would suffocate. But he had to stay alive, she was all that was left. She, in all her innocence, was all he had left.

They had all died. The Governor had eliminated them all, he had overcome them. The prison had fallen. It had all fallen. Fallen apart.

She wouldn't stop crying. He tried to open his eyes but the memories had their claws so deep in him he couldn't even move.

How long had it been since the prison? He didn't keep count. The days passed with a torturous sun, furious winds banging against the windows. The nights came by with glittering stars and towering moons. She had started crawling, frustration nearly matching the sorrow in his soul. A blossoming child amongst all this death.

He had let them all down. They had given him their lives and they had died for it. For what? For a war. What war? The Governor's war.

Finally his eyes snapped open and he looked around. The room wasn't filled with screams, death didn't fill his eyes. He looked down at the crying baby and he tried to hush her. Sweat was clinging to his forehead, crawling down his neck and seeping through his shirt. She sank against his side, her tears soaking up onto his chest. She calmed. How did she calm when all he brought was death?

Carl! Where was Carl? Carl was gone. Gone, gone, gone. Gone just like everyone else. He blinked away the images. Why hadn't he died? Why hadn't they just taken his life? Everyone else had nothing to do with it. All innocent. He had blood on his hands. Lori, Shane, T-Dog, Patricia, Jimmy, Amy, Jim, Jacqui. Their blood stained his hands so why hadn't they come for him? He was guilty. So guilty.

He hadn't seen them all go down but he had seen their bodies, seen them reanimate. They had all crawled back into the prison, trying to cling to the only life they had known for so long, the life he had fooled them into believing in. The Governor had gone once the prison rang silently with death. Arrogant and victorious. They were going to torch the place he had overheard. He had to get out, find the others and get out.

He locked himself in their cellblock with his baby, clutching onto her hoping she wouldn't die on him too. He could hear them in the separate cell where they used to eat, clawing at the gates viciously. His family, his group. He cried, the tears falling endlessly, just like hers did.

He saw Glenn and Maggie, their blackened flesh rotting. Daryl reached for him, his eyes vacant, hungry for what flesh was left on his bones. Carol with that ugly bullet wound in the middle of her eyes, her body clinging to death so harshly. Hershel's other leg seemed to have been blown off during the battle, he dragged himself towards the gate with angry growls. Beth's body was riddled with bullets, in death her face was distorted so unlike the angelic softness she had before. Merle gnawed on one of the Governor's soldiers who had gone in to check the prison's status, all the flesh ripped off the body. Michonne laid dead, three bullets in her, two before her reanimation and the last after death from the Governor's soldier. And then there was Carl, the sheriff's hat off his head, his eyes watching him with hunger, with judgment. You killed us.

Days passed and her cries grew worse. She was hungry, her face red. Just like the blood that had been shed. He knew what he had to do. He knew what she needed. But it was in that room. Going in there meant- he couldn't do that. He couldn't kill them all. He had no ammo, his revolver was empty. All he had was his knife. He decided to rot away, languish in his own nothingness and die out. But her cries kept coming, her screams grew louder and she got weaker. He was so weak himself. How much more death was he to be responsible for? He knew what he had to do.

He rose up from the bed, leaving her small trembling body in its place. Taking the key ring from his pants he locked the cell she was in. If something happened to him it would be better for her to die from starvation than from being ripped apart.

He stood in front of the cell gate watching them mercilessly reaching out for him. He withdrew his knife, the blade seemingly dull in the stale light of the prison. He reached out with the key and set them in the lock, trying to avoid the hands that clawed for him, yearned for him to quench their hunger.

Wouldn't it be better? To throw himself to them and let them eat away what remained of him. Let them pass the sentence to judge what he had brought on them. But she was still crying, calling him back to life. He had to live somehow. Somehow for her.

He breathed out a heavy breath before he reached out and turned the key in the lock. He stepped away from the gate knowing that in their viciousness they would push it open. They came at him, their bodies decaying and dragging at him. He rose his blade, let out a raging yell and dug his knife into Carol's head. She fell and sloshed when he pulled the blade out. Maggie grabbed at him, ripping a hole into his shirt but he reached up and tore the knife through her neck. He felt Hershel grabbing at his legs as Daryl came on him. He screamed again as he felt their clawing fingers trying to take him apart. He slashed at Daryl's throat, let his boot come down with all his force on Hershel's head before he dug his blade into Daryl's head. Glenn came behind him, hugging him to him, wanting to rip him apart. He pushed at him and turned around quickly, the knife stabbing through his dark eye. Beth's broken body shot to him, flailing as he pushed her off and crushed his knife into her forehead. Merle left the soldier's barren corpse and came at him with more strength than them all. His teeth widened but he was quicker, sticking the knife in through his mouth before pulling it out.

Then there was Carl. So small. So dead. His son. His eyes were no longer blue, his skin was no longer alive. He was vacant, he was gone. Gone. He was staring at him, wanting every piece of his flesh. He was judging him. You killed me. You, my father, killed me. Why? Why? He attacked, so viciously he almost overwhelmed him. Tears sprang to his eyes as he pushed at his small throat. He got a tight grip on the knife and with his eyes closed he plunged it into his head. He fell down onto his chest, the warm blood leaking everywhere. He laid there like that, wishing that his weight would crush him, corrupt him and take him to the hell this war had sent him to. His son. His boy.

But her cries came to him again and he pushed the body off, unable to look at him again. He rose up, so damn weak with hunger and pain, and made his way into the connecting cell. Everything was a mess, things were thrown over. They had been spoiled but still he checked and still he found it. The canister of formula and the bucket of good water. He sighed with victory and made a bottle. He hadn't done it in so long. Slowly, weakly he went back to the cell he had left her in and fed her, cradling her where his heart was and he slept.

They stayed there for one more night and then he knew they had to move. He packed up what he had left and he escaped during the dead of night even though he knew how dangerous that was. He took a car, loading it up with what supplies he took and drove away. The last good car. He got away from the ruins of the prison, the bodies of his family. But the nightmares stayed with him, the pain clung to him and he knew it wouldn't release him anytime soon. He had failed them all.

They changed cars whenever he could, found more supplies and when he had stumbled on a faraway daycare he looted it of everything he could find. Finally he had reached the coast but by then he was so dazed he couldn't think straight. All he knew was survival and keeping the baby that was with him alive. He found a house that was near the water. A writer's house it seemed, there was tons of paper, a typewriter. It reminded him oddly of Misery, that movie he had seen an eternity ago. Stephen King. Who was Stephen King? Lori had loved him. He closed his eyes. He didn't know Lori, he had no life before.

And now here he was, lost to himself and abandoned to everything. The baby in his arms so much different from the day he had left the prison. How old was she? How old was he? What was he? He was death.

He took her small body into his arms and she sniveled. Her hand was holding onto the fabric of his soaked shirt. He wanted to smile but couldn't remember how.

He moved into the kitchen and routinely made her a bottle before taking out the stale and molded bread. He nibbled at the piece slowly, achingly. With the baby in one arm he checked off what he had used just now on his inventory list and sighed. They were almost empty. How much longer could he survive? They were entirely isolated. No walkers. No people. No danger except the approaching death that came in the form of starvation, of simply dying out.

He looked down at her beautiful face and he shook his head as much as he could. She wasn't going to die. Oh but he brought death with him everywhere. Lori, Carl, Shane, Daryl…I know! I know! He should have listened to Morgan. He should have blown himself to bits with Jenner. I know! I know! Death followed him at his heels.

He brought the suckling baby into the bathroom. He didn't dare look at his haggard face in the mirror. His skin must have been clinging to his bones by now, his eyes must have been sunken in. He didn't even feel like a man. He was a figure of survival for the one person he had left.

Carefully he set her down to sit against the wall and he released himself with a sigh. He scooped her back up again and carried her into the living room. She moaned when he collapsed onto the couch but he snuggled her close to calm her. He was too tired to do anything, his soul had lost its vigor, his body its strength. The Governor had stolen it, it was back at the prison. He was so tired, so damn exhausted. He no longer slept, just floated in a daze of memories that wouldn't give him the ability to rest. He didn't deserve it. They couldn't rest anymore. They were dead.

His eyes slid shut and his mind hung in between darkness and the sweet suckling sound of her mouth. A creak snapped his eyes open. She had fallen asleep and so he carefully rose, slipping his arm out from beneath her. The creak came again followed by the soft echo of shoes on the wood floorboards. He dug into his pockets for his knife and withdrew it despite his shaky hands. He knew that in his state he wasn't much of a threat but just like what had happened at the prison his rage, his paternal need to keep her alive would help him overcome whatever it was waiting for him.

The midday sun poured onto the guys face as they came closer to each other and he stopped in his tracks. Those blue and slanted eyes, that same darkening glare.

"Daryl?" He croaked out, his throat so dry it hurt.

He looked over the man, confusion beginning to show on his face. "Are you alright?"

That wasn't Daryl's voice, not his accent. But that was his face. Because Daryl was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Just like everyone else.

"Daryl?" He called out again even louder. The exertion weakening him just as the knife fell from his hand.


	2. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So to answer the question! Connor is coming! Woot! Alright, seeing that the first chapter had positive feedback here's the second chapter. Hoping y'all continue liking it. Oh and I love reviews, tell me how I'm doing!

Murphy had spotted the house on accident. He had been strolling around, his eyes shaded by his glasses and an unlit cigarette hanging on his lips. He didn't want to smoke it, being down to only 4. Why waste it when there were so many days left ahead of him? He wasn't sure when they were going to be able to get to go on another run seeing as their weren't many places left around here and because they were quite handicapped with Connor's injury.

They had escaped Boston pretty early. The breakout happening two months after they had escaped from prison. They had been given different names, different passports and were Ireland bound by ship all over again. And then panic rose, hysteria broke out. The walkers stormed through the docks and he and his brother barely made it out alive.

They hadn't been picked up by any groups, nor had set out to look for survivors. It was just him and Connor, like it always was. It wasn't so different than it had been before the says of the Saints, before they had gotten their calling. Sure they had their friends in their neighborhood but all that had mattered was each other. Just like now.

Connor had gotten hurt not too long ago. They were staying at the inn a few blocks from the coast. Their cabin was the furthest one from the main road and they often had an easy time coming and going. They had been smart to stay close to the water throughout the year, killing what walkers they found but for the most part they had tons of luck. That was until most recently.

They had gone out on a run a couple of weeks ago. They were out of food and the store was not too far. The lone store that was left. So they had hurried there only to find that the entire place was infested with walkers. Murphy had been frightened. This time he had followed along with Connor's plan without argument and ,God, now he wished he hadn't.

He had decided to go out through the top window from the manager's office on the second floor. Murphy had followed wordlessly in his panic, climbing out first and carefully landing down. He heard Connor scream and quickly flail himself out the window, three walkers trying to grab for him. He had heard the crack before anything else and he reacted quickly, managing to lift his brother over his shoulder and race back to the cabin.

Connor's ankle had broken and he was unable to walk on it, keeping to his bed and having to elevate it. Days passed that way and although Connor was slowly getting better, even taking a few steps. The worst part about it was Connor's constant complaints because he wanted to get out, wanted to move about. So Murphy had decided that he just needed time away before they ripped each other's throats out.

That's what he was doing now, just walking along the sidewalk, an unlit cigarette on his lip. The wind blew through his dark hair and the light spray that washed against him was refreshing. He loved his brother, most truly but sometimes they were so at odds it drove them both insane. The horrible case of brotherly love he supposed.

He knew that there were things that were more important than this but he couldn't concentrate on things like that. He didn't want to think about the dead, didn't want to think of the chaos. He didn't have to seeing as he and his brother were so untouched by the plague that had destroyed the world. Luck of the Irish? Nah, a blessing from God.

He looked out at the waves, pushing his glasses up onto the top of his and wondered why it was this had happened. The sin of man? The renewal of mankind? Something like the flood? He didn't know. But there were so many things that were untouched by it. Like the waves he looked at now, those crystal waves that refused to die down.

He couldn't help but smile as he placed the cigarette behind his ear and continued walking. They were already planning on moving on soon, once Connor got better but damn how he would miss this place and their cabin that was like their very own fortress.

Turning he saw a small beach house, blue in color with an ashy chimney. Looked like some quaint picture out of one of them books his da had collected. He smiled a little before figuring he should check it out. Maybe the owners had been smokers, they need some for the road.

He approached the house and like a fool he knocked. Just as he expected there was no answer and so he entered quietly. So silent he confused himself. He didn't call out though, didn't want to draw any walkers that might be roaming about inside. So instead he just walked, looking every which way.

The floorboards creaked beneath his shoes and the wind blew against the closed windows. He could smell something that was akin to milk floating in the air and his brows furrowed. Milk?

He turned the corner and stopped when he saw a man standing there, knife in hand. His eyes were like two blue holes glaring through him. His hair was mated down by a feverish sweat and his skin was the palest he had ever seen. The clothes he wore clung to him giving him the sight of the man's starved body. He was saying something but his voice was so hoarse Murphy couldn't understand him. He stepped closer and asked the man if he was alright but the man didn't respond. He just said something incoherent again before the knife he held fell from his trembling hands. The man wavered and then he fell. Perhaps because of the movement or maybe the shock of seeing someone else. That was when Murphy heard the sound of a baby crying.

He followed the noise into the living and there she was. A small baby girl dressed in a cool cotton dress who had gleaming eyes was crying. And what a sweet cry it was. It swelled in his heart and made Murphy rush to the couch where she was laying. He lifted her up in his arms and beamed down at her.

"What a perfect girl you are...And what's your name, huh?" He softly said down to her, his fingertips touching lightly to her tear stained cheek.

To his surprise she calmed in his arms and that made him proud. He always had loved kids and this one was just amazing. Miracle, she was.

He remembered the man who had passed out and so Murphy set the baby down in the nearby playpen and managed to get the nearly weightless man to the couch. Taking the baby up in his arms again he roamed the small house.

The bedroom was much in the same state as any owner would leave it after a vacation. Crisp, fresh despite the bed being unmade. The bathroom was neat, the sink wet however and no products in the shower. He made his way into the kitchen where he found the source of the smell of milk. The baby's formula. He checked the refrigerator finding things that the man no doubt would eat. There was nothing canned in the house and instantly he felt guilty, he and Connor had taken all the could from the nearby places.

His heart broke down in two when he saw what the man had been eating. Molded bread, shriveled bologna, soggy fruit. No wonder the man was all bones. But the baby however was as healthy as she could be, rosy cheeks and all.

He noticed the slip of paper laying on the counter. An inventory it seemed and he saw that the man was nearly down to nothing. The writing was nearly illegible and crooked as if the hand that had written it was shaky.

Harshly he swallowed and carried the baby back to the living room. He sat in the small chair across from the couch and rocked the baby in his arms. He knew that Connor would worry about where he had gone off to but it wasn't like he could come and find him. He would just have to wait there and think about how he wouldn't be able to be like Charlie Bronson for quite some time.

He smirked at the thought before stilling when he saw the man stir. He let out a low moan and then he opened his eyes. Murphy put the baby in her playpen just when the man shot up with a panic. He searched for his knife that was still laying on the wood floor before his eyes finally fell on Murphy. There was something strange in them, something that looked like familiarity.

"Hey, calm down, man. No one's gonna hurt you. My name's Murphy, staying down at one of them cabins a couple blocks away." He calmly explained, looking down at him but keeping his distance.

The man wanted to react but he was too weak to do a thing. He just looked up at Murphy silently. "Daryl?" He pushed out, this time coherently.

"Daryl? Who's Daryl? Is that your friend? I'm sure he'll be back soon although I didn't see anyone else." Murphy knelt down in front of the couch quite sure the man wouldn't lash out even if he wanted to.

He shook his head. "He's dead." He whispered, the tongue that came out from inside his mouth bringing no moisture to his cracked lips. "They are dead."

Murphy nodded, understanding the state the man was in even before he had said that. "So you're by yourself? You and your daughter?"

At the word daughter the man jumped up and nearly leaped towards the playpen. He scooped her up and sheltered her against his chest. A father's love, that's what kept him going.

"She's beautiful." He said, gesturing towards the baby in the man's bony arms.

He didn't say anything and so Murphy got to thinking. They had enough supplies, he and Connor weren't going anywhere for a couple of more weeks. He figured that they could help this guy out, him and his little girl. They sure needed it.

"Listen here...What's your name?"

The man stared at him for the longest time. It was like he was trying to remember. His brows knitted together fiercely and his swallow looked painful. "Rick." He finally said with all the pain in the world swimming in his eyes.

"Listen, Rick, I've got a brother. He has a broken ankle though but where we're staying, we have plenty of supplies. I'm gonna bring some over to you and your little girl, alright?"

Rick didn't answer. He just stared. The presence of another person was terrifying for him, Murphy could see that and he understood. He was a little freaked himself. He had never seen such a ghost of a man in all his life. He and Connor hadn't come across any survivors in such a long time, it was scary.

"I'll be back later, alright? You wait here."

Murphy said before he walked out of the room backwards. He listened to hear if he heard any movement but he didn't. Nothing changed. He stepped out of the house, praying to God that Rick wouldn't be stupid and leave before he went on back to the cabin.


	3. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Murph/Rick Walker action in here. Hell yeah! Glad for that! Well hope y'all like this!

Sometime had passed and Rick simply sat there. For what? He couldn't even tell. The day was passing just like the waves of the sea were crashing. He had heard Daryl say he would be back but he hadn't come back yet. No it wasn't Daryl. Daryl was dead. He hadn't known Daryl because he had killed him. He had let him die in that prison alone with everyone else.

Looking down at the baby in his arms he swallowed down the feeling in his mouth that had turned drier than before. He grimaced at the soreness of his throat and pulled her closer to his chest. His head was spinning and he had to sit down again to regain himself. She reached her little hand up and touched at the boniness of his face. He tensed at her touch. For a moment it flashed in his mind. Lori placing her hand on his cheek, letting him know that his decisions, whatever they were, were right. 

Are they right now? Right now when everyone was dead? Had he made the right choice of letting it come to war? Of standing their ground in a defenseless prison? What would Lori say now? She would side with Shane. She would turn her back on you because you're a murderer. Harshly he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to suppress the dark voice that crawled up inside of his conscience. Why do you carry on? End it all. Die like you let them all die. Die, die, die. Everything was death.

Carefully he set the baby into her playpen and watched her a moment. Trying to understand the innocence in her eyes. Had everyone been that innocent at the beginning? Had he once been that way? He couldn't see past the blood on his hands. Blood, crimson red, he was empty.

He moved away from the playpen and entered the kitchen trying again at the sink faucet for water. He was alive but he was dying. He needed water, his head was spinning and he couldn't calm down. His nerves were high and he could feel himself losing his grip on everything. He could feel their blood spraying on him. He had killed them all twice. He had watched them all die twice.

A bang at the back door pulled his eyes from the failed attempt for water. Several bangs, clawing, low growls. He sucked in a breath and an anger fueled through him. Not here. Not now. Not with memories pulling him apart every which way.

Slowly he reached into the back of his pants and pulled out his Python. He was lucky to have not come upon many walkers because it allowed him to preserve what ammo he had. He slept with his gun, keeping it close no matter what.

He made his way to the back door, looking at the aggressive walkers that wouldn't back down. He thought of blowing a shot through the glass but he knew that would scare the baby. He reached for the lock and took a deep breath. Hell he didn't even care if he died. Die. Die like they all died.

 

"C'mon Conn, it's just a guy and his little girl, they won't be of any trouble. And I didn't exactly ask them to join us, just going to bring them some supplies." Murphy tried to reason with his brother who had shot down his idea of helping the guy Rick out.

"Y'remember last time we helped someone out? They damn near killed us." Connor said with a shake of his head from the bed he was laying on.

Murphy looked at his brother with a bit of disappointment. He definitely remembered the last time they had helped people. But that had been a group of four guys, two women and one kid. During the night when they were all supposed to be sleeping they had tried to take over their place. They had promised each other that wouldn't let that happen again and had raised their guards up to ensure their own protection. Never knew these days.

"Whether you like it or not I'm bringing some stuff over there. They might die. Rick needs it and so does his little girl." He started going through their stocked cabinet to fill a bag.

"Oh? So it's Rick now? Y'gonna build a tent and camp out with him too?" Connor tried to sit up but grimaced when he moved his ankle too much.

"Y'can't stop me, now can you? I'm bringing it and I'll be right back. Alright?" He tied up the bag and turned to look at Connor.

"If you're going so am I."

Murphy sighed with frustration. "Damn it, y'can't even walk. Stop acting like I'm your scared little brother, I can take care of myself." He threw the bag over his shoulder and went to the door. "Don't do anything stupid." He said with a small smirk.

Once he stepped out of the cabin he looked around at the clear day. It was odd to be able to stand here unharmed and actually be able to admire a day like this. No walkers, no stupid groups ready to kill him and his brother. It was a good day.

The door creaked open behind him and he turned to it with surprise. Connor was standing there, hobbling on the makeshift crutches he had managed to make.

"I told you I was gonna go with you." He said, squinting at the sun.

Murphy couldn't help but laugh at the miserable expression on Connor's face. "You sure look horrible brother...but here..." He took off his own sunglasses and slid them on Connor to shield his eyes. "...to ease your discomfort."

Connor gave him a glare before he followed after him. Murphy was leading him towards the sidewalk that was led to the beach's shore. He was glad that he and his brother had gotten some peace after everything they had been through since they had broken out of prison. They certainly deserved it.

They finally stopped near a sole house that Murphy looked up at with a bit of worry in his eyes. Murphy was always so damn spontaneous, aggressive even but he knew that the heart was there inside and he was glad that this world hadn't torn that out of him.

"Let's go in." Murphy said back at Connor, nudging him forward.

They made their way to the house and Murphy reached for the door without knocking.

"What the hell Murph?" Connor nearly yelled, slapping at his hand.

"What?!"

"You don't just walk in there like a stupid idiot!"

"Rick is too damn weak to even walk across the room...we'll be fine, come on." He pulled the door open and adjusted the bag over his shoulder.

They went on inside the house. Murphy heard the scratching and growls that was coming from the back of the house. "Y'hear that?" He asked in a low voice as he carefully set the bag down.

"'Course I do, there must be a dozen of them." Connor's brows furrowed together as he listened in.

"Y'go check the baby, she's probably in the living room. I'll go check it out." 

Connor nodded and hobbled off to the living room, taking the bag with him. Murphy made to pull one of the guns out of his holster but thought better of it with the baby in the house. Instead he took one of the knives out that he kept on himself always and made his way to the back of the house.

He saw Rick standing there reaching out for the knob on the door. He had a gun in his hand, his weakness making his arm shake a little.

"Rick!" Murphy called out in a low whisper, his eyes watching the walkers threatening to get in.

Rick turned at the sound of Murphy's voice. His eyes were cold, distant from the moment that they were both in. There was anger in his blue eyes, desperation and yet there was still weakness pulling him down.

"Move away from the door." He said as he made his way to the back door and reached out for the lock. "I can take them."

Rick shook his head, grabbing his arm and pulling him away. "Let me." He hoarsed out, his eyes pleading with Murphy.

"We'll both do it." Murphy said which earned him a nod. He reached his hand out and pulled open the door before he and Rick both backed off in haste.

The walkers came at them, around ten of them, all wanting the flesh off their bones. Murph forced his knife into of their eyes, feeling the blood gush out onto his skin. He pulled it out again and cringed at the sound of Rick's gun going off. A walker dropped and the baby started crying. He grabbed one of the walkers that made for the living room, digging his blade into its brain once he dropped it onto the ground. Another bullet fired and the walker fell. Murphy nodded to Rick before he forced his knife into another walker. 

"Just pull your damn gun." Rick grunted out before firing again.

Murphy was at a loss because he didn't want to hurt the baby's ears but he he pulled his gun anyways. The silencer was attached and it blunted the loud shot as he fired at the four remaining walkers.

They stood in the silence of the house and looked down at the walkers on the ground. The gunshots echoed in their ears but it didn't leave much of an affect. 

"First time this happen?" Murphy asked and Rick gave a small nod. "Told you I'd come back." 

Rick held Murphy's eyes a moment, the walkers seemingly bringing him out of the shell he had been locked in. It was like he was trying to figure something out.

"I brought you some stuff...Me and my brother."

"Your brother?"

"Aye." Murphy nodded. "C'mon." He gestured Rick with him towards the living room, figuring they could clear the walkers out later.

They found Connor sitting on the couch, trying to hush the baby in his arms, it didn't look to be working.

"Y'best leave that little girl alone, Conn. She doesn't seem to like you at all." Murphy said with a laugh as he leaned back against the wall.

Rick moved to the couch and took the baby from Connor protectively. He pressed her against his chest and looked between the two brothers. He was still trying to wrap his head around this guy who looked like Daryl coming in here. He couldn't come to turns with it. Dead. Everyone was dead. Dead like those walkers. Those walkers were dead. Dead like everyone at the prison.

"What's her name?" Murphy asked, looking at the baby and how she calmed in Rick's arms.

"Judith." He replied, trying not to cringe at the memory of when Carl had brought up the idea of naming her Judith.

Murphy nodded, noticing the pain on Rick's face. What turmoil did this man go through? He looked like he had been through hell. He touched at the spot where his tattoo was beneath his coat. Did grace even exist now?

"Can't thank you enough." Rick said, looking them both in the eyes.

"Don't mention it." Murphy said with a nod.

Rick looked between them and then down at the baby in his arms. Did he dare let the thought cross his mind? Would he now let darkness swallow him whole? Let it swallow him up and leave his baby to fall into the arms of these two men? 

He shook his head. He couldn't do that. He had to live. That had been his promise. His promise to Judith, his promise to God above. He would keep her alive and if he had to live through everything else than that was exactly what he was going to do.


	4. Surrounded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger you guys! And I hope that I'm depicting these characters true enough! Thanks to whoever is reading! I would love to hear what you have to say about this story!

Murphy helped Rick put all the supplies he had brought over into the pantry. Rick leaned against the counter, not admitting that he needed something to lean against, filling out the inventory he kept. Murphy could see the way the mans hands shook along with the dead stare he was giving to the paper on the surface. The only sign indicating that he was alive was the way he blinked. It broke his heart to see how this world could destroy someone so completely. But the man had to be strong in some ways seeing as he had gotten out here, to safety, unless of course this had been his place beforehand. He didn't see it that way however, he had come here, him and his little girl.

"I can do this on my own." Murphy said, lining up the cans on one shelf. He was trying hard to keep his eyes off the walkers laying on the ground, they had decided that they would clear them out once the things were put away.

Rick shook his head. "It's fine."

"But you sure don't like too fine." Murphy observed, meeting his tired eyes with concern.

Rick let out a sigh, one that looked labored and painful. He let the pen slip from his fingers as he looked to Murphy. "Y'did all this for me and my daughter...I'm not even sure why."

"It was the right thing to do." Murphy replied before continuing with putting the stuff away.

What he said had affected Rick, sent pain straight into the dampened blue of his eyes. "The right thing to do." He repeated in a murmur. 

Murphy could hear the breaking of the man's voice, like he was no longer in control of the pain in his body. He tried to ignore it as he finished up but it tore at him. This man was hopeless, had lost every bit of faith he had started out with. There was nothing alive in his eyes except for when he looked at his baby. It was too much, too painful, too sorrowed. He wanted to say something that would lighten him up but he didn't want to have to tell the guy to see the brighter side of things when sometimes it was even hard for himself. This world sent everything into tatters, shattering its core of humanity and leaving them with nothing to hold onto. What kind of world was that to hope in?

"I help you, you help me. That okay?" He knew that this man was stubborn in allowing others to help him, he could sense that. So he made the compromise even if he wasn't really expecting it in return.

Rick looked up at him straight into his eyes. There it was again, the pained familiarity that he was struggling to get over. Who did he look like? What had happened to this man to lead him right up to this point? What had ruined him so much to make him a shell of whoever he used to be? Had it just been the walkers? The world breaking apart? Or had it been deeper than that? Worse than that?

"That's fine." He nodded in agreement, reaching down and picking up the pen again. His hands continued to shake and he almost angrily threw the pen down. His handwriting was beyond messy and he hated seeing that he had also lost something as simple as that.

"You done?" Murphy asked, coming closer to where Rick was standing. He looked down at the list and took an intake of breath over the messiness of the writing.

"Yeah..." Rick gave a nod, setting the pen down and looking to Murphy. "Y'ready to clear them out?" He gestured towards the bodies laying on the ground.

"Again. I can do it on my own." Murphy insisted, his concern strong in his voice.

Rick shook his head. "I'm helping." He stated before moving to the back door and dragging one of the bodies out the door. He let out a groan blood smeared across the wood floor. 

Murphy watched him, seeing his exertion and admiring from afar. This man had been through so damn much and yet here he was, still keeping his strength in tact. His body had ben weak but it was his soul that possessed the remnants of of the man he once had been.

Rick came back in, reaching down for a walker before looking up at Murphy who was still standing in the kitchen in the same place Rick had left him in. 

Murphy could see the waiting in Rick's eyes and he nodded to that, realizing that he hadn't been helping. He went quickly and took up a walker, dragging it with him out the door. 

They dragged them out one by one, laying them on the sand that surrounded the house.

"What are we gonna do with them?" Murphy asked, looking around.

"Burn them." Rick replied, walking past him and into the house again. Soon after he came back out with a pack of matches. Standing over the pile of bodies he lit the end of it and dropped it down onto a tattered shirt starting up a fire.

Murphy stepped back, watching as the flames licked at what was left of their flesh. Slowly he lifted his eyes to Rick who was watching the flames just the same. They grew in the blue of his eyes, sparking up a bit of life that had been missing before. There was a bit of pleasure there to have killed these walkers, to have kept them away from his haven, from his daughter. Rick looked up, meeting Murphy's eyes and he gave him a slight nod. One of both gratitude and understanding. But all in all Murphy couldn't even begin to understand what Rick had gone through. Murphy hadn't lost a thing except for Boston and of course whatever friends he had back there. But he had his brother, his family, and that's all that mattered to him.

The wind began to blow by and Rick began to walk towards the house. Murphy stopped him though by calling out his name. He turned to face him, stunned it seemed by whatever he saw again in his face.

"What is it?" He asked, his face too damn tired to be possible.

"Who's Daryl?" He felt himself ask it before actually realized it and he saw the effect it had on him. 

Rick took a deep breath and he looked away. This man had helped him, had possibly given his little girl another chance at surviving. This man who had his friend's face. The face of the man he had let down. He stood there, a symbol of the world he had let fall apart. All because he had thought it was the right thing.

"He was my friend." He replied, finally looking into Murphy's eyes again.

"And he...he's gone?"

"He died." His voice was so monotonous but that didn't cease the storm raging within his eyes. "I don't even know how long ago. We were staying in a prison, some people wanted to take that away...we were ready to die for it. They did, and here I am. Still alive." He turned his eyes away and looked out at the waves that were picking up in strength.

"How many were you?" Murphy asked, letting Rick's previous words hang in the air between them.

"Twelve. Now it's just two." He breathed back the emotions struggling to rise from inside him. He didn't cry anymore. What gave him the right to cry when he had caused it all?

"I'm sorry." Murphy said, his voice lowering.

Rick just nodded towards him before he slipped back into the house. Murphy stayed where he was for several moments , watching the fire die down leaving nothing but ashes that the wind would sweep away.

He found Connor by himself in the living room looking bored as hell. Rick was nowhere to be seen but he could hear Judith's small voice from somewhere in the house.

"You alright?" Murphy asked his brother, setting himself down next to him.

"Aye. Rick said we could sleep here tonight. Don't think he likes the idea of anyone going around at night." Connor smiled a little but it faded. The atmosphere was so dark it clung to them, sucking away their usual behavior.

"Don't like it much myself. Do you mind?" 

"Course not. Think there's a couple extra rooms here." He looked satisfied with that thought as he glanced down at his ankle.

"Good. That's good." Murphy nodded and rose up. "Well I'm gonna get some sleep."

"What? And without dinner?" Connor questioned, a smile hinting on his lips.

"That ain't all I think about, Now goodnight. Hope you get around alright on your stupid broken ankle." Murphy tossed out as he walked away towards one of the spare rooms.

"You just wait until we get outta here, Murph. I just don't wanna be disrespectful in this man's home." Connor called out to him, a trace of laughter on his voice.

Murphy looked back at him with a shake of his head. "You're just scared you might lose." He said before slipping into the room and closing the door.

Connor laughed to himself before he rose up and hobbled towards the third room.

 

Rick's eyes shot open. He had been lost somewhere between sleep and being awake, Judith cradled protectively in his arms. For the first time in a long time they weren't alone in this house, the two brothers presence almost comforting. He wasn't alone. He could breathe. But just as that thought crossed his mind there was a loud sound from downstairs. His eyes opened and he got out of bed. Judith stirred and moaned softly before settling back into sleep against him. He held her close as he left the room, silently making his way around. 

The two spare rooms were shut and the house was empty. He almost let out a yell of fear when he saw what they were surrounded by. 

The windows of the house were large, giving whoever was inside full view of the ocean. All he could see now though were walkers. Walkers everywhere. They were clawing at the glass, moving against the door. They didn't look to be backing away anytime soon and seeing him there was enough to make them even more persistent. It made him think of the farm, the way they had been overrun. It gripped him inside with fear as he turned around and raced back to his room. 

Hurriedly he dressed Judith as the sounds became louder. He made sure she was warm before he slipped on his own jacket and threw ammo into a bag which he slipped up his shoulder. He left his room and went into the spare room closest. Murphy was laying there and Rick had to shake him to get him up.

"What is it?" He asked groggily.

"Get your brother. We're surrounded." He whispered harshly before slipping out and racing into the kitchen. 

The sudden movement had woken Judith up and she started to cry. He tried rocking her, not wanting her cry to bring more walkers but she wouldn't stop. She was so tired. Heavily he sighed and threw what supplies they could carry into a bag before rushing back into the living room where both Murphy and Connor were now standing, preparing their guns.

"It was the damn gunshots." Connor said to Murphy, they seemed to be in some kind of argument. 

"Rick, what are we gonna do? They're everywhere." Murphy said once Rick came rushing in, giving a glare to his brother.

Rick looked around and then down at Judith who was beginning to calm. He couldn't let them go down like this. Not again. 

"The attic. For now." He said, knowing that it couldn't be permanent but if they broke in they wouldn't find a thing and the four of them would be out of reach until they passed on.


	5. Corpses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So don't worry, all those walkers down there, they're gonna pay for getting in! Trust me! More walker action soon!

They immediately agreed with Rick's plan of going up to the attic. Once the walkers found nothing inside the house, they would move on they were sure of it. There was only one problem, there wasn't a ladder to get up there, it had been gone when Rick had moved into the house. Judith's cries were getting louder and the search for a way to get up to the attic was frustrating the three of them.

Rick glanced around at the walkers attempting to tear their way through the glass windows. He held Judith closer to his chest and looked to Murphy. "We have to figure this out, now." He looked between the two brothers, cursing himself in his head when he looked down at Connor's injury.

"There anything in this place?" Murphy asked, scratching at the back of his head with a bit of panic. He knew that the walkers could force their way in.

"We gotta find a rope!" Connor declared.

"Don't get started on that damn rope, Conn." Murphy warned with a shake of his head before he turned back to Rick. "What the hell are we gonna do?"

Rick surveyed the area before he handed both Judith and the bag to Murphy. He went about the living room, pushing the couch beneath the opened attic and threw off all the cushions. He was still so damn weak but his determination propelled him forward. He looked up at the distance between the couch and the attic before stacking up a one of the side tables on top.

"It ain't all too steady....but it's gonna have to do." He stated. "I'm gonna go up first and then I need y'to hand Judith and the bag to me, alright?" 

Murphy nodded and stepped back to watch as Rick climbed up onto the table. He steadied himself on top and looked up at the attic, trying hard not to look at the walkers threatening their way in. Murphy was worried that he was too weak to pull himself up and he almost didn't want to look when Rick reached up. He let out a strained groan as he pulled himself up, his arms nearly giving out but he managed to do it. He let out a loud and relieved sigh, shaking out his arms. He looked down at Murphy and gestured for him to lift Judith up to him. 

Murphy nodded. First he handed the bag and Judith to Connor before he climbed up on the side table. Connor handed the baby to him first and Murphy reached up the highest he could allowing Rick to carefully take her to him, trying to hush her once he had her again. Murphy took the bag and handed that over as well. 

"Connor, you go now!" Murphy ordered, getting off and urging his brother forward.

"How the hell am I gonna do that Murph? I can't even get around on my own." 

"Rick, how are we gonna get Connor up?" Murphy called out.

"Just get the damned rope!"

"And how the hell are we gonna get one? Stop with your ideas and that stupid rope!" Murph nearly yelled, his panic getting the best of him as he pushed at Connor a little.

"Found one!" Rick called out from the top. 

There was a sound and Murphy looked behind to see a rope laying on the side table. Murphy rolled his eyes and took it up.

"Murphy's gotta come up first and we'll pull Connor up."

"Stupid rope." He muttered, going to Connor and fixing it around his waist. "You sure you can do this?" He asked, concern hitting him.

Before Connor nodded there was a sound of the glass nearly breaking. Connor looked to Murphy with a slight smile that was filled with panic. 

"Looks like I'm gonna have to be able to do it." He said, checking to make sure that the rope was tied tightly enough.

Murphy nodded and then climbed up on the table, taking the other end of the rope in his hands. He reached up and pulling himself into the attic. Rick nodded to him before Murphy threw him a part of the rope. He saw that Judith was safely laying down and that Rick had set the bag down too. 

"Y'ready?" Rick called out, gripping the rope tight.

"Sure am!" Connor called back, his voice confident that this was going to work.

"Let's pull him up." Rick said but before they could even make an attempt they heard the glass break.

"Connor!" Murphy yelled out as he tugged at the rope, Rick pulling hard as well.

"Pull me the hell up!" Connor was pulling at the rope, helping to pull himself up as well. 

Rick glanced down and saw that the walkers were already tearing through the house, seeing Connor as he was being lifted up. Connor kicked away at the groping hands before he set his hands on the attic ledge. Murphy helped pull him up until he was laying on his back with a heavy breath escaping his lips. Rick slammed the door shut and then rushed to take Judith up in his arms again. 

"What the hell is that smell?" Murphy questioned, finally noticing a stench filling the attic. It was something like death, hard and rancid.

Rick and Connor smelled it too. Rick set Judith down again on his jacket. The smell was mixing with the sounds from below. The walkers tearing through the house, their noises filling their heads with anxiousness and a bit of fear.

Rick stood up and walked to the end of the attic where the smell seemed to be coming from. The attic was dark but when he squinted closer he could see that there were three people laying there. Corpses. He turned away, covering his mouth with disgust. 

"Is that?" Murphy asked and Rick nodded. "Damn it."

Rick sighed and looked back to the bodies. These bodies weren't that fresh, but he could still make out their faces. They hadn't died from bites but from the looks of it a gunshot wound to the head. A woman, and two little kids. There wasn't a gun around. This hadn't been suicide, it was murder.

Rick turned away from the bodies and went back to Judith, her crying having stopped and sleep coming on her again. He looked back at the bodies and sighed. This world was an ugly world. He had contributed to it, giving the lives of his friends for a shot.

"You really think they'll pass?" There's hundreds of them." Murphy asked of Rick.

"If they don't we're gonna have to move on."

"We can't get through those." Murphy insisted.

"We will." Rick assured before he moved to one of the corners away from the corpses.

A couple of hours passed and Murphy was almost sure that Rick had fallen asleep. He turned to Connor who he knew was still awake. 

"You think we'll get through this?" Murphy asked his brother. It didn't matter if Connor couldn't do what things he usually could. He still looked to him for answers, for a way out of most things.

"Aye, we get through everything." Connor gave a nod, his arms folded behind his head.

"And you think Rick is right?"

Connor sighed and looked into his brother's eyes. He was worried even if he would never admit it. "I think he is. Even if he isn't quite in the right state of mind. He's a little out of his mind but he's got a few good ideas in him."

Murphy nodded and then laid down too, folding his arms behind his head the same like Connor did. "He thought I was a friend of his when he first saw me. A guy named Daryl."

"Yeah?"

"He said they were all dead. All of them. Something about a town called Woodbury, think that's what it was called."

"What about that town?"

"Killed his group I guess." Murphy's face was serious as he stared up at the ceiling, remembering the way Rick had looked when he had let out what had happened to Daryl. "Would explain how he is."

Connor's brows tensed. "And Woodbury's around here?"

"I dont' know." Murphy sat up a little, looking down at Connor curiously. "What are you thinking?" He knew that look in his brother's eyes. The one he gotten when they had first heard their calling from God. It was dark, something he seemed to want, they both wanted.

"I say we get ourselves over to Woodbury and..."

"And kill them?"

Connor nodded and Murphy gave a knowing smile. "That sounds like a plan."

"Rick's a good man."

Murphy nodded and then laid down again. "Aye, he is."

"We'll ask him about all of it tomorrow and then we'll make the plan. Now get some sleep, Murph. We're gonna need it."

"Not sure if I can sleep with all those walkers downstairs."

"You slept in Boston, Murph. Get your ass to bed."

Murphy laughed a little before he rested back and closed his eyes.

Rick opened his eyes then when the talking died down. He looked over at the two brothers and then down at Judith who was laying in his arms. He swallowed harshly.

Back to Woodbury. Kill the Governor. He liked the thought. The thought of getting revenge for what happened at the prison. But was that the right thing? He resisted saying that there wasn't a right thing anymore. He resisted imagining how it would play out. He resisted liking the thought of it. But he couldn't resist admitting that it was what he wanted.


	6. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set up chapter for some walker action in the next one. Hope y'all like this one. Tell me what you think!

His hands shook as he put the bottle to Judith's mouth. She was so hungry and so calm resting against him. Did she feel how he trembled? Did she feel the unrest that gripped him? The death that he brought with him everywhere? The unsettled torture wrecking through him? He didn't want her apart of that. He didn't want her to know the darkness of this world. But she was growing up in it, having to live in the middle of the chaos. He wished that he could shelter her but he didn't have the means to. It was all around and there was no stopping the dead.

He kept trying to keep his mind on the present but the sounds from below kept pulling him back to the prison. He had to remind himself that they weren't down there. They were dead. All of them were dead. He had killed them. He had sent them to their deaths. Dead. Dead because of him. He could change things now. He was sure of it. Murphy and Connor were here, they were under his protection now, even though he knew they could survive very well on their own. He wouldn't let them die. He wouldn't allow himself to let that happen. He had to be strong. He had to give them a way to survive. He couldn't fail them too.

Carefully he set Judith down to lay on his jacket, propping something beneath her bottle. He watched her a moment, not wanting to leave her there but knowing he had to do some things.

He moved quietly to the back of the attic where the corpses were. He looked back at Murphy and Connor making sure that they weren't awake. He stood in front of the bodies, looking down at them in the daylight that poured into the attic. The bullet wounds were more prominent in the light, the trail of blood was blackened, and the bodies looked too fragile to touch. But there was still flesh on them and he knew that in order to do what he had been thinking of earlier it had to be done.

"Shame, ain't it?"

Connor's voice pulled him out of his own head and made him to look back at him. He had pulled himself up into a sitting position, a slight grimace on his face because of the pain in his ankle.

"Yeah, yeah it is." Rick replied, his voice thick and dry. He hadn't eaten or drank anything today.

"Wonder who did it?" Connor wondered, his eyes just staring at the bodies.

"The husband?" Rick shrugged, looking over the scene with a heavy distaste in his mouth. The three were huddled together, perhaps in fear, they didn't look like they were running away. It seemed like they had been afraid. No doubt whoever had put those bullets in their heads hda known them.

Connor shook his head in disbelief. "Those walkers aren't our only threats, eh?"

"Seems like people like us are our bigger threat." Rick replied with a light shake of his head.

"I second that."

A silence fell over them and Rick found himself just staring at them. That was the fate he had condemned his own family to. What he saw there was the darkness he had forced his group into. He was alone. Was this also the fate for Judith? Was this what would happen to her because she was near him?

"Murph told me 'bout your group." Connor's voice broke the silence, carefully treading whatever wall they had between them. He didn't know the man but he needed to get this over with. His talk with Murphy had been on his mind all night. Getting back into it, the two of them, ridding the world of evil.

"Did he?' Rick glanced over at him before looking back at the bodies. What did he feel about them discussing him? What did he feel about anything? Nothing. Nothing as always.

"Aye." Connor nodded, pushing a tired hand through his hair. "We got to thinking that we might be able to do something about this...Woodbury."

Rick's brows tensed, his mind overwhelmed by the words Connor spoke. Doing something abou Woodbury?

"What do y'mean?" Rick asked, finally turning to look at Connor.

"Me and my brother...we..." He didn't know how to tell him but hell this was the damn apocalypse, everything could be accepted now. "We take out the bad guys, so to speak. And if what you told Murph is true I think this town constitutes as that."

"Y'mean kill him?" Rick pressed, having heard the conversation from the night before.

Connor nodded at that, seeing the knowing look in Rick's eyes. " What do you say about that?"

Rick sighed, pushing his hair back and looking away. What did he say about that? He had planned to kill the Governor and then he had killed everyone else. He had to abandon it to get Judith to safety but now-

"You're serious?" Rick asked, looking back up into Connor's eyes with hope.

"More than I've ever been." Connor held the man's gaze, hoping he understood it.

"So we just go back? Kill him and leave?"

"Who exactly is 'him'?"

Rick didn't want to say it. Didn't want to have to speak that name and have it ring memories into his head. "The Governor." Connor's eyes urged him to continue and so he nodded. "He's the leader of Woodbury, they do everything he tells them to. He ordered the attack on our prison, ordered the attack to kill everyone." Rick looked away letting out a breath. "I- I had to kill them."

"Because they turned?"

Rick looked at him, his eyes harshened. "They were them. I killed them. I killed them." He pushed out, a tormented strain in his voice.

Connor stared at him a moment, understading what he meant and knowing the toll it must have had on him. He blamed himself, was tormented by it. It all showed in his eyes and the thought of helping him out, putting his tired soul at ease was enough to keep the plan alive in his head.

"Are you coming with us? Will you show us where Woodbury is?"

Rick's jaw tensed at the thought of seeing The Governor again. He thought of killing him, the bullet hitting him the way he had shot them off on his group. Would he shoot him in the head? Would he let him turn and kill him again? Let him feel the torture the turning caused?

"I will." Rick replied with a nod. "I'll go back."

"Well then you're gonna have to get some strength in you."

"We're gonna have to get out of here first." Rick stated.

Judith sat up from where she was laying and Rick quickly went to her. He checked her like he always did. Fever, pains and there was nothing as always.

Murphy sat up then, taking a look around with a long sigh realizing he was still in the same surroundings. "Anything new?" He asked.

"We're going to Woodbury." Connor said, looking at his brother with both relief that they were getting back to it and also with a bit of fear. "Told Rick here he's gotta get some strength in him first."

Rick looked up at the mention of his name. "And I told him we have to get out of here first before anything."

"How are we gonna do that?" Murphy asked, looking across at Rick intently.

Rick threw a glance over to the bodies in the corner of the attic before looking back to the two brothers who had followed his gaze too.

"You can't be serious Rick." Connor said with a shake of his head.

"If we throw those bodies down there it'll divert their attention and we'll be able to take them out."

"That's insane." Murphy said. "There's too many of them."

"It's the only way." Rick replied sternly, clutching Judith against him closer.

"Well guess he's right, Conn."

"That's desecration." Connor reminded, looking to the three bodies again.

"They're dead. They're gone." Rick locked his eyes onto Connor's giving no room for argument.

"I don't think I'm too comfortable with that."

"Then what? Then we die up here once the supplies run out."

"You said they'd pass on."

Rick heavily sighed and shook his head. "We have to leave now. Murphy and I will go down there once we toss the bodies and you'll stay up here with Judith. Y'can't move, y'won't be any help to either of us. We'll clear them out and come back for y'both." He alid out the plan and then moved over to the bodies. "Simple as that." Toss the innocent for a shot. He was going to do it again. Sacrifices. They had to be made.

"Conn, just the way it has to be." Murphy stated, setting a comforting hand on Connor's shoulder.

Connor let out a breath and nodded. "Well hand her to me."

Murphy brought the little girl to Connor and smiled down at her. "We're gonna get you out of here, princess." He softly said down to her.

Connor held her to him and scooted back against the wall. Murphy went over to Rick and looked down at the bodies.

"You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Rick replied before he walked over to the attic door.

They both saw how his grip shook as he pulled open the door. The sounds got louder, the sound of the dead.

"You sure you'll be alright?" Murphy asked Rick with concern.

"I have to be." He replied as he reached down and took one of the corpses up.

He breathed heavily as he picked up the woman's body and tossed her down to the walkers. They scrambled towards it, their hunger driving them. He watched and his eyes blurred. Kill them all. Kill them, Rick. You have to kill them. Kill them like you killed everyone else.

"Where are we gonna get out?"

Rick gestured to one of the windows. "Through there. We'll go around back inside and get them off guard. I'm sure we have enough ammo."

Murphy nodded as he tossed another corpse down. Rick wiped at the blur in his eyes and picked up the last corpse, dropping the child down to the walkers. Sacrifice them all Rick. Sacrifice. Kill them all. Kill them to survive. He stood up, dusting off his hands and tried to swallow down the pain in his throat. He touched to his gun and turned to the window.

"C'mon." He urged Murphy with him as he opened the window for them to climb out. It was high but they had to do this. They had to get out. He had to kill The Governor. Had to avenge the deaths that weighed down upon his own head.


	7. Enclosed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walked action for y'all. Not sure how it turned out but let me know!

Murphy was a little nervous about getting down from the windows ledge. It wasn't that he was scared, he was just hesitant about leaving Connor and Judith on their own. He knew that Connor was capable of taking care of them but the thought of leaving them alone was still too much. He hasn't been away from his brother before, especially not when things were as bad as they were now. He was genuinely scared but he knew that he had to do this. He had to give them a chance to get through this.

He followed Rick's lead and soon enough they were down and on ground level. Murphy rubbed at his hands with a sigh before turning to Rick.

"Y'ready?" Rick asked through nearly gritted teeth. The exertion of the climb had taken its toll on him. His breathing was rough and his hands were resting on his hips as he tried to calm himself. He would never admit it but he was weak, anyone could see man was malnourished and Murphy worried about him. But he understood his reasons for doing this. He understood knowing that he had a little girl to take care of, to keep alive.

"Yeah I am." Murphy , reaching for his knife until Rick shook his head.

"There's too many of them, we're gonna be overrun in there. Just use your gun." Rick pulled out his own gun and made to walk to the front door.

Before they made it there they stopped and looked in through the windows. There were hundreds of them, Rick wasn't even sure if they had enough ammo to get through them all. They were falling over each other, their limp bodies reaching for the corpses they had thrown down. Blood was splattered everywhere. Flesh hung from their teeth, from between their fingers, falling to the ground as the bodies were picked apart.

"You think we we're actually gonna make out of their alive?" He questioned aloud, his worry evident in the tone of his voice. He didn't want to make it obvious, let it affect how he was going to get through this.

"No. I don't think we both will." Rick replied, his eyes watching the walkers. He was trying to assess the situation they found themselves in.

"What do you mean?"

Rick lowered his eyes to Murphy knowingly. "C'mon."

They walked to the front door, Rick pulling it open carefully. It didn't creak but there was still a sound and they both winced at it. Rick sighed when nothing came at them. He gestured Murphy to follow him but before he did Murphy tugged at his arm.

"What is it?" Rick asked, impatient it seemed.

"Why don't we just go out through the window, lower Connor down with that stupid rope?"

Rick looked towards the main road and Murphy looked back as well. "That's why."

Murphy couldn't believe it. There were walkers everywhere. He wasn't even sure where they had come from. He could only hope that once they got them out of the attic they would be able to survive this horde.

"Murphy." Rick sternly called out.

"Yeah?" He turned around at the sound of his name, meeting Rick's eyes.

"Thank you. For saving my daughter." He set a hand on Murphy's shoulder with a grateful look in his eyes.

"Don't mention it, man."

"If anything happens to me, you'll take care of her?"

Murphy wanted to protest and insist that nothing at all would happen to him but he couldn't. He understood the foreboding fear of death that clung to everyone these days. It wasn't time for reassurance, it was a time for acceptance and promises. He gave him a nod. "Of course. There isn't a question about it."

Rick gave something of a smile before he turned around and raised his gun. Murphy stepped behind him, his own gun raised. Rick gave him a nod and then went in together.

Rick fired off the first bullet, catching one of the walkers in the head. Murphy shot off his silencer a few times, throwing back three walkers to the ground. They were coming at him, their hunger possessing them and urging them forward. Murphy shot out and so did Rick.

"We're cornered!" Murphy shouted, suddenly realizing there suicide mission the had been from the start.

Rick let out a groan of frustration before he moved away from Murphy's side. Murphy looked after him, his eyes confused.

"What the hell are you doing?" He shouted as he saw how a large group of walkers headed towards Rick.

Rick didn't answer, he could barely hear anything except for the snarls ahead of him and his own nervous breathing. He took out his knife and sliced downward on his arm. The blood pearled out and then started dripping to the ground. He looked up to see a whole group of them headed towards them. He heard Murphy's gun go off but he couldn't see anything except for the hope that this plan would work.

He was walking backwards, taunting them to follow him. He looked behind him finding a closet there. Fumbling with the knob he pulled the door open, drawing out an Axe he had stored in there. He had placed various weapons throughout the house for this reason in particular.

He swung the Axe up, plunging it into one of the walkers heads. He let out a grunt as he pulled it out again, kicking at a walker who had come too close. He backed into the closet, trying blindly to search for the knob that led down below. He found it and pulled it open. He stepped through it, the walkers approaching quicker now.

The basement was dark but he knew his way around. He slipped out the door and raced back to the front of the house. Walkers met him there, around six of them. He cut them down quickly, the blood spraying on him, the guts dropping out and touching his skin.

Once the six were down he rushed back inside. Murphy wasn't anywhere and the feeling of fear took over the adrenaline from earlier. He hacked at each walker that came towards him. The head hit through the side of his skull, then up through the neck, and the other he slashed through a chest.

"Murphy!" He yelled out. In his mind he couldn't exactly see himself yelling for Murphy. He was yelling for Daryl. He was given a second chance to save a groups life and here he was, at a loss for what the hell had happened.

Murphy rushed up the stairs, the walkers following him stumbling at the steps. He stayed there looking down at them, s laugh ready to emerge from his lips. They were mindless, their clawing reaching out for him.

"Stupid bastards." He muttered as he began to load his gun.

He lifted it, firing bullets into each of the walkers heads. When the clip ran out he took out his knife, not caring that there were around twenty walkers at the foot of the stairs. He watched them aimlessly reach for him for a moment. There was still a bit of fear crawling up inside of him as he looked down into their dead eyes. He knew that this was what had happened to his friends, to his family. These things were whats happened to everyone. They were the ones without the brain.

He lifted the knife and stabbed the blade through one of the walkers heads and then repeated it until there were only about six left. He loaded up his gun again and fired off the last ammo he had.

The walkers fell in a heap at the foot of the staircase, their blood staining the wood floors. He could hear that there was a quiet in the house, one that was unsettling and yet curious.

He stepped over the bodies and slowly made his way into the living room. He had His knife out, having run out of bullets. Harshly he swallowed as he looked around. The walkers that had been eating the three corpses had all been killed, gashes to their heads, bullets to their foreheads.

"Rick?" He called out hesitantly, not wanting to grab attention.

He walked on into the kitchen and looked inside. More walkers were piled up on the ground, the same gashes to their bodies. He looked further into the shadowed kitchen and that's when he saw Rick.

He was sitting back against the wall, his head was back, his eyes closed and his breathing was shallow. There was an Axe beside him, bloodied and dripping with insides.

"Rick?" He called out again cautiously, tucking the knife back into his pants.

Ricks eyes slowly opened as he looked up at Connor. "We have to leave soon. The doors aren't that strong in here." He rasped out, his hands shaky and his eyes drawn.

"You been bit?" Murphy asked, kneeling beside him.

Rick slowly shook his head. With trembling steps he forced himself up, holding onto the wall for support. "We have to go." He insisted, gripping the Axe and looking Murphy in the eyes to tell him not to press with anymore questions.

Murphy nodded and helped Rick to walk along back to the walker ridden living room where the attic was.


	8. Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all like this one!

Rick nearly collapsed onto the couch once they got Connor and Judith down from the attic. The supply bag was on the ground and the house was ridden with dead walkers. The smell was strong and Judith was fussy. The night blared in through the shattered windows, the groans from down the road filling the air. It was deathly quiet between the four of them though despte the small moans from Judith.

He was just so tired. He wasn't sure how to catch the breath he had lost or how to strengthen the weakness he had suddenly gained. His hands were shaking and the blood clung to him like permanent stains. He ached everywhere, his eyes were half lidded and his mouth was dry. He wasn't ready to stand up, his legs wouldn't support his weight and his head wouldn't stop spinning. He had exerted himself beyond what he could handle and he feared he had stretched himself too far.

"So what do we do now?" Murphy asked, looking between both Rick and Connor.

Connor was looking around, keeping his bad leg off the ground. The corpses were everywhere. There was shock and surprise on his features. He couldn't quite believe that Rick and Murphy had taken all those walkers out on their own. But they had paid quite a significant price seeing as Rick was laying back exhausted on the couch. His blue eyes fluttering closed and his breathing hoarse.

"He needs to rest." Connor said, gesturing to the couch. 

Judith was laying against Rick's chest, her fussiness caused by the sweat clinging to his shirt. Murphy looked at the two of them and felt a pull inside of him. This was how it had been for how long? How long had Rick been this deprived of what he needed? How long had he needed to fight? The man had suffered enough as it was, that was obvious by the look on his face but they needed to push on, just a little bit more.

"I know he does." Murphy replied with a nod, pushing a hand back through his hair.

"We could stay here for awhile? For the night?" Connor suggested, his voice lowered to somewhat keep the conversation between the two of them. "So that he can get back on his feet and be alright by morning?"

Murphy glanced at Rick knowing that was what was needed but also knowing they couldn't exhaust any of their chances. They had barely escaped from the horde that had swarmed this house and with another one pressing in there wasn't anytime for resting. There was only time it seemed for getting the hell away from the danger coming towards them.

"That would be ideal but..." He let out a breath and shook his head. "I don't think we can afford that."

"What do you mean? We can't take him around like that. He'll be dead before we get away from the coast."

Murphy knew his brother was right. He knew that Connor was usually right even if his plans were crappy and got them into even more of a disaster but he also knew that time wasn't on their side and that couldn't be shoved aside because one man needed rest. As selfish as that sounded.

"We're not staying." Rick firmly said suddenly, his voice coarse and his eyes unwavering. He had sat up, Judith in his lap now as he looked between the brothers. "We can't stay."

"Maybe you should rest just a little?" Murphy suggested, looking over to his brother who nodded with approval.

Rick shook his head and forced himself to his feet. "I'm fine." He insisted, setting Judith on his hip. "We'll leave in a few moments. We gather everything up. In the garage is a car, one can of fuel, should be enough to get us halfway there. After that, well we'll figure it out."

"You have a car?" Murphy asked, stepping closer to Rick.

Rick nodded. 

"Why didn't you ever leave?" Connor asked, his brows furrowing a little with question as he tested adding weight to his ankle. It wasn't as bad as it had been but the pain still stung as it coursed up through him.

"Wanted somewhere safe to raise her." He softly said, giving Judith a glance. There was a longing in his eyes. A longing for a better life. One his little girl could grow up in and not be afraid. He wanted that so badly for her. The kind of life he had lived. The kind of life he had dreamt of for Carl. But Carl would never live any life now.Because he was dead. Dead, forever dead. And the blood stains your hands.

He forced himself out of his thoughts and carried Judith to the doors that led to the bedrooms. "Just tell me when y'all are ready, alright?" He said before disappearing into the room.

He looked around, the familiar setting sending an ache inside of him. This had been home for several months now. He had seen her start to crawl around here, had seen her develop and change like every other little girl. And just like any other father he kept those memories close in his mind. He even had a small book where he had written it down, the way Lori had with Carl. What made him do that he wasn't sure. It was odd to write down such simple things, to remind himself that there was still a life to live and love to have. Sometimes he hated himself for it though. Hated himself for clinging too tightly to the world he had known before. He could already feel the layers of his soul peeling away with how hard he fought to keep the past alive. It was ridiculous, so damn childish to even think that a world like the one that had been put behind them could exist. 

Carefully he set Judith down on the bed and began to empty the drawers, figuring that she would need her clothes, change of weather and all that. He filled up a bag, throwing his own stuff in as well. He found the notebook he had kept, her milestones written up in his weak handwriting. He smiled a little at it, what felt like a smile at least. He tucked that into the bag before zipping it up and slinging the bag over his shoulder.

He went to the bed, sitting down beside her. She looked up at him with Lori's eyes. Those beautiful eyes that he could just lose himself in. They drew him in, making him love her, pleading with him to accept her, to protect her.

Heavily he sighed and pushed a hand back through his hair. This was his little girl, his daughter. She wasn't anybody else's. She wasn't Shane's and he had to finally accept that. There couldn't be a wall up, not when it came to her. This was his child. His and Lori's and no pain from before could change that. 

Gently he lifted her up into his arms and traced the backs of his fingers along her face. "I'm gonna get y'safe sweetheart." He whispered down to her, the softness of his voice surprising him. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

A knock sounded on the door and he turned to face Murphy who stood in the doorway. 

"Y'both ready?" He asked, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

Murphy nodded. "Are you gonna be alright?" He asked, his eyes going down to the baby in his arms.

Rick nodded. "'Course I am. C'mon let's get outta here." He followed Murphy out of the room.

They met Connnor in the living room, supported by his makeshift crutches. There was the bag of supplies at his feet along with another bag of extra stuff from the kitchen.

"This way." Rick led the way to the otherside of the house where the garage was and opened the door..

There was a car inside. Unmarked and pretty much in good shape. The garage was stripped bare of useful things, the only things left were hoses and empty boxes. Rick opened the door, taking the keys from the behind the pull down mirror. He tossed the bag into the trunk once he unlocked it before getting Judith strapped into her carseat. He took the bags Murphy handed him, tossing them in as well before he got into the drivers seat. He waited for the two men to get in as well. Murphy took the passengers seat and Connor took the back, stretching his legs beside Judith.

Rick turned in his seat, his drawn eyes looking between Murphy and Connor. "Alright, y'said that y'were staying at a cabin right? Is it close?"

Connor nodded. "Real close."

"Alright then. We'll drive over there, get whatever the two of you have over there and then we'll hit the road." Rick said.

They both nodded at his plan as he started up the car and pulled out of the garage.


	9. Drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love this chapter please? I love reading your reviews! Muah!

They walked into the brothers cabin and closed the door behind them. Judith fussed a little when Rick set the carrier down. He looked about the cabin, the cool wind from the sea blowing in through the partially opened windows. But something wasn't right, he could tell by how Murphy and Connor were looking about themselves. He saw it too once he glanced around. 

The place was empty, a few things strewn about the place. The cabinets were all opened, the shelves were cleared. He felt anger too because this would have also been his supply, his and Judith's.

"I can't believe this." Connor muttered, his eyes trained on the empty cabinets in front of him. 

Murphy went on a tirade of curses, kicking at the shelves as his yelling got louder. His face had spotted red a little and his eyes had become sharp. Rick watched him, seeing the same look of anger on his face that Daryl used to get. It was looking getting a second look into the past, seeing that anger pent up in one man. He looked away, not wanting to be reminded, not wanting to see the past become alive again in front of his face. He wasn't ready for this, wasn't ready to accept that it was all over. It wasn't going to go back, his group was dead. Daryl was dead even if this man had his face. 

Why had he ran into him? Was this punishment? To remind him of what he had done? Of the deaths he had caused? Would this man be his undoing? Would Murphy turn on him? It wasn't torture enough to have to live with it, he had to be repaid for the wrongs he had done.

"Who the hell could have done this?" Murphy demanded, turning around to look at both his brother and Rick.

"It's not like we had it under lock or under guard." Connor stated, turning his eyes to Rick. "And since we weren't here."

Murphy groaned and turned away, slamming his fist against the wall. Rick quickly went to him, gripping his shoulder. 

"We'll find other stuff." He said calmly. The calm in his voice an affect of trying to settle into himself again. He couldn't risk being unnerved, not at a moment like this. He had to keep himself together, going off the deep end would only make things worse.

Murphy looked back at him and gave a half nod although his eyes were still darkened with anger. "Not as much as was in here." He said with a heavy breath.

"We'll find other stuff. Other things." His assurance was outwardly convincing but the uncertainty he felt inside was stronger than anything. He couldn't trust himself, not after the failure he had let take everyone down. Not after everything.

"So what now? We don't have much of anything...we're really going out on the road like this?" Connor questioned, despair sounding in his voice. He knew he couldn't lose faith, he had to be strong for himself, for his brother.

"Yeah." Rick nodded and turned around to look at Connor. "It's what we're gonna do." He said firmly, letting his hand fall from Daryl's shoulder.

"Yeah, we have to get out of here." Murphy said, walking over to Connor. "See anything we ought to take?"

Connor glanced around himself and shook his head. "Everything's gone. No point in anything else."

Murphy nodded before he reached down and took the carrier with Judith in it up in his hand. It drew Rick's attention to him. "I got her Rick." He said with a reassuring nod as he made his way to the door, leaving the cabin.

"Yeah, and I think it's best if Murph drives, at least for a little while so you can get rest." Connor hobbled over to him, hlding his hand out to Rick for the keys.

"I'm fine, really. I don't need to sleep." Rick said but his protest wasn't making Connor back down. He took his keys from his coat and dropped the ring into his palm. "Only for a little while." 

"Aye. A little while." Connor gave a nod, closing his hand around the keys before he left the cabin.

Rick looked about himself at the looted cabin and sighed. The world was a mess, the one they lived in. The threat of violence, of walkers closing in on them. They were never safe, not ever from anything. 

He left the cabin, looking outside before he stepped on over to the car. The morning was coming with purple ribbons in the lifting sky. He could see the walkers, pressing closer to them from the main road. It was nearly impossible to try and make it through the infested streets but he knew that was the way they had to go. They couldn't stay in the beach house, not with the size of the horde that had rushed through it.

This was less about survival though and more about taking back the life stolen from him. The Governor was going to pay for what had happened back at the prison. But had it really been one man's fault? Hadn't he also been to blame? Carelessly letting a war brew?

He tried to push the heavy thoughts from his minds as he walked on to the car where the other tree were. Murphy had buckled in the carrier in the back seat and the brothers had taken the two front seats. They really had meant that he needed rest.

He shook his head with a slight smile before he got into the back seat. With habitual caution he checked to make sure Judith was in right before he rested his head back against the seat. 

"Feel nice, don't it?" Murphy asked with a light chuckle as he looked at Rick in the rearview mirror.

Rick laughed a little and gave a small shrug. Of course it felt good to try and relax but the rigidness wrecking painfully inside of him wouldn't ease. Would it ever? Not while they couldn't be safe.

"Alright. So we just drive through the horde then?" Murphy asked as he started up the ignition. 

Both Rick and Connor nodded. "Easy as that." Rick said in a low voice.

"Well if you would have told m that to begin with I wouldn't have gotten so nervous." He let out a small laugh, pulling the car out of park and driving away from the cabin.

They drove towards the main road and Rick felt it impossible to concentrate on resting. The walkers were aimlessly walking about the road, the cool heat was shining down upon them, death clinging to their skin.

Murphy tried to drive through them, tried desperately to rear up speed and drive past the block but he couldn't. There were too many of them and the sounds they made poured in through the closed windows. 

"We can't make it through that." Connor said, gesturing out the wind shield and towards the walkers crowding around the car.

Murphy chuckled a little and shook is head. "And what about having a little faith? Believing?"

"If there wasn't someone else in this car I would smack you for that." Connor said, laughing a little as well.

Rick wasn't listening to them, his eyes were trained out the window and his adrenaline was running high. He knew what had to be planned. Just as the walkers began to claw at the windows, their hungry growls reaching his ears, Rick turned behind him, pulling back the seat to access the trunk. He pulled out the rifle he kept in there. The heaviness of the weapon slick in his hand. 

Connor and murphy noticed the sounds he was making and quickly they turned around to face him. 

"What are you doing?" Murphy asked him, his voice a bit of a panic as he watched him.

Rick cocked up the rifle and gave them both of them a nod. "Only thing we've got." He said simply as he pulled back the sun window and stood up through it.

He aimed and fired, aimed and fired. The walkers fell with each passing memory. Without love again in the cold dark he had found himself in.

Walkers tried to get him and a couple of times they tugged at his pants. He fired off a few more rounds, making them come to the back of the car as he shot, making a clearing for the walkers to reach him.

"Y'better get going now!" Rick yelled out, firing off his rifle again.

The car got to going again and Rick fired off a couple of walkers. He settled into the back seat again after awhile, looking between the brothers and giving them both a quick nod. 

"Like I said, easy." he smirked a little at his own words before he let his eyes close again.


	10. Resilience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay hope you all like this talky bit I've written. So nervous to get these characters right. Hope you like it and drop me review if you do, even if you don't!

Murphy checked the rearview mirror to see if Rick was asleep. He seemed to be, his eyes were closed, his breathing seemed steady even if his brows had a harsh furrow to them. That eased his mind just a bit, glad that the man would be able to rest off a built of his exhaustion. Next thing he had to work on was getting him nourished again. That wasn't going to be easy seeing as more than half the supply he had anticipated had been stolen but he would figure something out. They needed Rick strong, healthy if they were going to take down this Governor. And taking down a man like that was the only thing on his mind,

"Wanna know what I was thinking about Conn?" Murphy asked, tossing a glance over to his brother who was slouched down in the passenger seat. He looked somewhat miserable but Murphy knew it had more to do with what had happened at the cabin than with anything else.

"Yeah?" Connor gave his attention over to Murphy, his elbow resting on his lifted knee. He was chewing on his fingernails, a habit he suddenly had now that they were out of cigarettes.

"Made me think of not back at the cabin. Remember that one time back home there was that one guy who tried to sneak his way into our house?" He knew it the moment he said it that he had said the right thing. He was painting over what had happened with something of a better memory, hoping it would be able to erase the scowl from off his face.

A smile made its way onto Connors face and he nodded. "How could I forget? I still feel bad for that man, came in for some money and left with a few broken bones."

Murphy chuckled. "Remember the police had a hard time wondering if they should arrest the guy for breaking in or arresting ma for assault."

They both laughed at that. The memory bringing them both out of the funk from earlier. Times has changed so much since then but they tried their hardest to keep alive some fragments, not wanting to disappear entirely,

"The priest forced ma to go to confession for that. Said that sort of beating was in no way merely self defense." Connor tried to keep the laugh going but he failed as the mood fell crashing around them.

"Conn?" He called out, his hand holding onto the wheel, his eyes out the windshield. "You think...you think ma got out? That she's out there surviving somewhere?"

"Thought we agreed not to mention that." Connor said, his voice lowering. All the previous humor from earlier was gone.

"Can't not."

"Listen. Ma is alive. She's alive and well. Probably killing these walkers with her bare hands." Connor assured him with serious eyes, darkened eyes that were nearly void of all hope.

Murphy glanced at his brother before looking back out to the road. "You're right."

Connor gave a nod and rested back against the seat. "Now I'm going to sleep. Wake me up when you me to take over."

Murphy gave his brother a nod and focused on driving. The road had darkened by now, the beach long behind them and the cool breeze that came off of it lost with it. He chewed on his lip, needing so badly to have another cigarette. A long time passed and Connor's snoring grew louder. Murphy glanced over at his brother before he remembered the last cigarette he had been too distracted to smoke. He dug into his pockets, his free hand resting firmly on the wheel. He withdrew the cigarette and set it on his lip. With a sigh of relief he reached over and took the electric lighter, burning the end and letting the smoke fill his lungs. It was almost glorious the way his whole body seemed to relax just then. He glanced at Connor again hoping he wouldn't get up and be angry at him for keeping this cigarette a secret. But Connor had smoked most of them anyways, seeing as he had nothing else really to do but smoke given his broken ankle. Murphy deserved this, this one was his.

"My dad always used to tell me smoking would kill you."

Rick's voice startled Murphy and he almost threw the cigarette out the window. He saw Rick laugh a little from the rear view and he set the cigarette back on his lip with a laugh of his own.

"Don't go scaring a man like that." Murphy said, taking a long pull off the cigarette.

Rick sat up from how he had been laying, looking over and checking on Judith. He still looked a mess, his eyes drawn and full of the permanent misery that was now apart of this man's character. He pulled off his jacket as he sat forward, draping it over his lap.

"Gets hotter when you're away from the coast, don't it?" Rick said, the hot wind coming in from the opened window.

"Aye." Murphy nodded, his eyes remaining on the road ahead of him.

Silence went on and Rick looked out the window, the settled dark outside the window somehow calming to his aching soul. After what had happened at the beach house, he needed all the comfort he could find. And this moment now, his daughter safe at his side, was the most peaceful thing he had had in awhile. She was still alive and it didn't even matter that every part of his body screamed out for more rest. She was alive, he had made sure of that. She was there for another day. Another day for her to live in.

He wondered if this was selfish. To make such an innocent being live on in this destroyed and aching world. To allow her to survive despite the plague of death that haunted their every footstep. Was it selfish to make that decision? Selfish to let her live knowing the life he had been through? Knowing the death that Carl had been fated to. They were all infected. That was all of their fates sooner or later.

"Where were you when this broke out?" Murphy asked in a low voice, letting out another breath of smoke as he threw a glance towards Connor.

"Hospital. I'd been in a coma." It felt like a million years ago and yet the fear still crept up on him like he had felt it yesterday. Had it ever gone away? That perpetual fear that had become a tattooed fixture in the hollowness of his life?

"And you woke up to all this?" The surprise couldn't be held back from Murphy's features. He could barely imagine the fear that must be injected into that sort of thing. Waking up from a coma to a world gone to ash.

Rick nodded, his expression muted as the images ran through his head again. He had always tried not to think of that time. Of Morgan, of the fear that had been replaced by relief when he had found Lori and Carl again. He never wanted to think of it because that only meant that he had found them again, that they hadn't remained lost and the guilt wouldn't hound him all over again. What would have happened had he never found them? Would they still be alive now?

"And you?" Rick lifted his blue eyes to meet Murphy's in the rear view. Curiosity filled his gaze.

"Me and my brother, we just got out of prison." He played on the words broken out, because that had been the actual story. "We were overwhelmed with too much excitement and then one day, going out to see the Sox play, everything just fell apart. Outbreak swept the city. But we never lost each other. Think that's the main key to all this, sticking together." He couldn't have stopped himself, the words came out to quickly.

Rick nodded, not taking it the way Murphy feared although it had been a stab to his guilt ridden heart. Sticking together, grouping together, that's what mattered. And they had stuck with him. And they had died.

"Y'think it'll ever end?"

"Pray everyday to the Lord that it will." Murphy replied with a nod and a reassuring glint in his eyes. "When that little princess of yours grows up, this world's going back to normal."

Rick smiled a little, his eyes struggling to see past the ignorance of those words. This world wasn't ever going to go back. He couldn't bear to think that way because hope always died and he couldn't survive losing something else.

"Yeah?" He asked, trying to give the impression of a smile. "What do y'think she'll be doing?"

Murphy thought a little, satisfied that he got something of an expression from Rick other than the hardness of his withering away. "Think she'd make a good cop. Locking away the bad guys."

Rick smiled a little despite the pain that tugged at the insides of his heart. "Funny. I was a cop." he muttered, touching to his jacket's pocket and feeling the outline of his badge inside. Why had he kept it? He had told Lori he was putting it away, Carl had dropped it outside the prison. He wasn't the law anymore. he was a curse, the kind of curse that only brought death.

"Well then she'll be just like her father." Murphy smiled one last time as he flicked what was left of the cigarette out the window.

Rick sighed as he rested his head back and looked out the window. He looked down Judith and the fear of Murphy's words came back to him. He hoped she wasn't like him. She was his only blessing and he was the curse that trailed death with it everywhere. He looked up at Murphy in the rear view. He had meant to reassure him, had meant to give him some kind of solace but all he was faced with was the bitter truth of judgement. Murphy had Daryl's face, refusing him peace from the massacre he had been accountable for at the prison. He had Daryl's face and he had the words that was enough to tear him apart over and over again. He would give the world if he could just get one time when peace was undeniably his.


	11. Confession

Morning came and Rick insisted that they stop the car. Murphy needed rest after driving all through the night and the town they had happened on needed to be looked through. Murph didn't like the idea but once he was forced he was out like a light, his snores filling the car.

Rick put the bottle to Judith's lip and watched her while she ate. He knew she needed to graduate to actual food soon, she wasn't satisfies with a bottle, finishing them off pretty quickly. Her new skills of crawling, or attempting to, were making her too hungry.

"Healthy eater." Connor commented, hobbling over on his crutches.

Rick gave an attempt of a smile as he looked up at the man. Judith was suckling away and his own stomach was nearly barren. His hands were shaky but he brushed that aside and leaned back against the hood of the car.

The fog of morning had long since passed and the heat was picking up. His sweat was beginning to pearl on his forehead, slipping down the back of his neck. Even Judith had tiny sweat pearls on her skin. He hated the heat, reminded him too much of being back at the prison, struggling to survive under The Governor's tyrannical hand. It used to cling to him like a disease. Lori used to press a cool towel to her head and exclaim that she could just bake in this heat. But that hadn't been at the prison at all, that had been another time. He didn't have a life before, he didn't want to think about it. It hurt too much.

"Rick?"

Connor's voice called out to him, his face just as sweaty. Rick stared at him a moment, his mind wavering between thoughts.

"Maybe you oughta eat something." He held out a can and a soon to him, his eyes full of worry as he watched him.

Rick nodded, taking the can with him along with the spoon. Carefully he opened the back seat of the car and put Judith into her car seat with her bottle. His hands trembled as he tried to open the tab on the can. Connor had gone off and Murphy, he figured, was still asleep. Letting out a low curse he dropped himself to sit on the , resting his head back against the car. Tears rose to his eyes, his head went dizzy and his stomach ached. He tried to take a breath but in the oppressive heat all he managed was s sharp heave.

The memories were filling him. The heat had been enough to trigger it. For a moment he could hear their snarls in the prison, could feel their blood stain him when he had killed them. They had been dead already. i didn't kill them, they were already dead. But they were dead because of you.

His free hand pressed hard to his forehead, his throat was dry with the rapsy cries that came from his lips and his eyes burned with the tears that fell from his lashes. Dead, dead. It should have been him. Not them, not his son, him.

"Hey..." Murphy knelt down and looked across at Rick with worried and tired eyes. He reached out, taking there can from him.

Rick lifted his eyes startled, looking first at his empty hand and then at Murphy. He still looked tired but he looked a lot better than he had after all that driving.

"Scared me a little." Murphy said as he pulled the tab from the can and handed it back. "You alright?"

Rick gave a breath of a smile, wiping at the fallen tears with the back of his hand. "Its nothing."

Murphy sat back, resting his arms on his knees. "'Course it isn't." He said with a slight smile. He knew not to press it but seeing the burden of emotions flood Rick's face had both worried and shaken him up. "We gonna check out the town?"

Rick gave a nod as he dug the spoon in, taking out some beans and eating it. He chewed it slowly, the food going down throat. It felt foreign, different. "Looks empty."

Murphy nodded and looked off in the direction of the town. "Seems like it."

Rick took in a breath after a couple of spoonfuls, letting his stomach adjust. "Y'said that y'were in prison?" His voice was hoarse as it came out. "What for?"

The question was something Murphy knew was coming and he was hesitant to answer. He knew the truth had to be told if trust was to be formed. This world accepted all kinds of people, but Rick seemed like he had been an upstanding guy before all this, what would he make of it?

"Murder." He said, lowering his voice. "Me and my brother...you ever hear of the Saints of Boston?"

Rick just stared at him, his eyes unwavering. Of course he had heard of the Saint, who hadn't? Two brothers claiming they were on the path of God to clean up the evil from off the streets. He had never rally decided where he felt on the subject. Law was law and it wasn't something that should be taken into one's own hands. However them doing what they did had somehow never bothered him. They weren't taking out the innocent, they were taking out those who preyed on the innocent. Sitting here now though all he felt was shock.

The Saints, sent by God, here with him. Could they have been sent here? Could they see the blood on his hands? Was this the face of his judgment? A cruel torturing judgment with the face of a man he had loved? The avenger of blood come to seek out his sins? Was this his end?

"I have." He forced out all too nervously, lifting another spoonful into his mouth. Was that the hunger that made his hands even more shakier? Or was it fear?

Murphy nodded as he searched Rick's face for his reaction but he got none. He just continued eating as if he hadn't just heard his confession. Maybe it wasn't a shock to him at all, maybe it was just another thing he had heard.

Rick tried to stifle the nervous fear he suddenly felt. Was he sitting here now with the man who would give the dead their vengeance? With the man who had been sent by God to take out the evil of the world, like the evil that had been living in him?

What would happen if that was how it played out? What would happen to Judith? He had sworn to get her safe, to keep her alive.

Looking back at Murphy he took a hard swallow on the beans he was eating. "We're headed to Woodbury, right?" He asked almost shakily.

Murphy nodded. "That's where you said this Governor is."

Rick let out a breath and looked away. Men of God didn't lie. Perhaps they didn't know that he was then real reason they were sent to that beach house.

"Those men y'killed...what'd you do to their families?"

Murphy gave a shrug. "Depends."

"On what?"

"What kinda people they were."

Rick nodded as if the answer wasn't satisfying. "And if their families are...children?" He didn't look at Murphy when he spoke, his spoon dipped in and out of the beans with a hardened look in his eyes. He couldn't be scared of death, not if he deserved it.

"Children shall not pay for the sins of their fathers." Murphy stated eyeing Rick with a bit of confusion in his eyes.

Was that enough to ease the fear in his mind? The nervousness at the thought of Judith's future were he to die? Nothing could smooth that fear over.

"This Governor have kids?" Murphy asked but something told him this wasn't about The Governor.

Rick gave a shrug as he put the last spoonful into his mouth. "I don't know." He muttered.

Murphy nodded and rose to his feet. "We gonna go now? Since you're done eating and I'm done with my beauty sleep?" He chuckled a little at his own words hoping to get a similar reaction from Rick but again he got none.

"Yeah. Connor's staying with Judith. We're all set." Rick stood up then as well, holding the can in his hand. Touching his hand to his gun he met Murphy's eyes. "Whatever happens thank y'for this." He gave him a nod before he led the way towards the town.

Murphys brows furrowed a little as he tried to understand what had just passed between the two of them. He met Connor's eyes who gave him a nod to get going before he followed after Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the ball will start rolling harder after this chapter. Tell me if you like it and even if you don't!


	12. Waver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright the town! Hope you all like this one? :)

Murphy followed behind Rick still trying to figure out what he had been talking about just a short while ago. The look in his eyes when he had mentioned the Saints. It had been full of guilt, of torment. The man was in deep , somewhere deep inside his soul. It was painful to see but how does one try to heal another man?

With his gun in hand he reached up and touched his free hand to his cross, saying a prayer for the broken man. This world was nothing but chaos and death but no one should have to suffer so brutally as Rick was. All this had to end soon, things had to return to normal. At least thats what he prayed for every night. Hope needed to last or else all remnants of humanity were lost.

There had been times when it had all felt lost. Especially during the first few days of the outbreak. He and Connor, although so talented with a gun, had felt at a loss on how to survive. They saw people ripped apart, city streets nearly burned to ash and flooded with the dead. There wasn't an escape and for a moment all that reigned inside of them was death and the fear of it.

A light had shone through though. A light that came in the form of each other. The whole world had been destroyed around them but they were still together. They had each other unlike most people they ran into who had lost everything. That was when the light turned into a foundation of faith. They were alive, they were together, just like before. They had always been hunted before only back then it had been cops with badges and Mafiosos in tailored suits. And now it was the dead. Same story, change of scenery.

He felt guilty about feeling so optimistic in the presence of a man who had gone through so much. But being the one piece of hope could perhaps be a blessing. Rick had his little girl, hen was surviving for her. Murphy knew that if she had died with the others he had lost he would have opted out a long time ago.

He sighed at the idea. Suicide was a sin, it was something that represented your complete lack of faith. Would he blame Risk if he turned the barrel on himself? He would because, although bleak the future still lived on. It lived in his daughter's eyes and maybe even in the plan to get The Governor.

He stopped when Rick did. Rick held his hand up for quiet, the other firm on his Python. Murphy stepped quietly beside him, his eyes looking around the deserted town and that's when he heard what Rick had.

It was the quiet sound of footsteps and low voices coming from a few blocks down. Rick glanced at Murphy, swallowing down harshly as he slowly cocked back the trigger of his gun. Always on guard, one never knew what could happen if you weren't. Everyone was hostile these days until proven otherwise.

Rick gestured Murphy with him into a nearby alleyway. They waited silently, their gazes fixed on the road ahead of them. As the voices came closer it was obvious there were around six people. Murphy cocked the trigger of his own gun and looked to Rick for the signal. Rick held his hand up for him to wait. They couldn't get hasty, they didn't know how armed they were or what kind of people they were dealing with yet.

It was a group of teenage boys. Murphy's heart sank at the sight of them, thinking of how hard it would be to live life at that age in this world. The feelings he felt for them faded however when he saw the bags slung over their shoulders.

Murphy tapped his hand to Rick's arm to get his attention and he made a gesture towards the group.

"Those are our bags." He whispered.

Rick looked back at there group and then again to Murphy. "Y'sure?" He asked in a low whisper.

"Would recognize those symbols anywhere. Took them out of a church bookstore."

Rick's brow lifted a little and Murphy shrugged his shoulders. "Y'think they're the ones who wiped out the cabin?"

"Unless they just liked our bags then hell yeah they are."

Rick nodded, obviously thinking the same thing. The anger from earlier rose up again. Their supply, Judith's supply, stolen by these punks who seemed to be having one hell of a time.

The kids slipped around the back of a building, their laughter disappearing with them.

"Staying in an inn, smart. Guess we've good ourselves a few Einstein's to deal with." Murphy said, his voice hardening. "But not smart enough to leave our stuff alone. I say go in." He moved forward to head towards the building.

Rick held him back by the shoulder, trying not to meet those eyes that were all too familiar. He couldn't lose himself now, those thoughts could burden him later.

"They might be armed."

"Then it'll make their surrender hilarious." Murphy replied, nonchalance written all over his face.

"And if they attack?" Rick couldn't understand the hesitance suddenly filling him. Those kids had gone into their 'territory', had taken what was left of what could sustain them. It was the thought of more death, wiping out more people. There was enough blood on his hands already.

"Then it's self defense." Murphy said, lightly shrugging off Rick's hand and walking towards the inn.

Rick let out a long breath and adjusted the rifle at his back. This was what the new world brought, death. The smell of it, the taste of it, the permanent feel of it. Death, death, it's all you're full of.

He blinked away the harsh agony of his thoughts as he came out of the alley's shadows. The sun blistered down on him, sweat pooled at his back. Pearls of it slipped down his arm, trickled down into his eyes, burning the tiredness lingering in them.

He met Murphy at the door and without a word they went inside.

"Oh my God." Murphy let out, his hand reaching for his other gun.

Rick glanced around at the room with shock filling his eyes.

The walkers looked in their direction, all twenty of them. Nearly starved, deprived and yet still so damn vicious. There was movement upstairs but he and Murphy were the only focus of the walkers hunger.

"What the hell do we do?" Murphy asked as the walkers reached towards them.

Rick holstered his gun and drew the knife he had. He looked to Murphy with a nod before he went further inside. Murphy followed, the silencer on his guns still too loud for his liking, returning them he drew out his own knife.

Two came first to Rick' one of them more then the other. Rick dug the knife up through its temple and the other, trying to clutch onto him, its neck was slashed open, blackened blood flooding out before the blade was buried in the top of its head.

Murphy climbed on top of the clerks counter, gripping his knife tight. Three walkers headed at him,their arms reaching for his legs. He kicked at each one before then knife plunged into the skin of their heads,

Rick tried to make his way to the staircase but found it had been blown off. A walker grabbed him from behind, he fought at its hold before he pressed it hard against the wall. The force made the knife fly from his grasp. Releasing himself from its hold he looked at the wall, ripping off the phone and slamming the receiver into its head, the blood rushing out onto the creaky floorboards.

A small laugh escaped Murphy's lips when he grabbed ahold of one, plunging the knife inside its open mouth, its hot breath like a disease spreading over his skin. Ripping it out he stabbed it through another walked coming towards him.

Rick kicked at one, its decomposed body falling ton the ground. He slammed his foot down hard into its face, the very skull crushing beneath the heavy force that he forced onto it repetitively. Reaching down he picked up the fallen knife, forcing it into another walkers forehead.

Moving around one of the tables Murphy grabbed one of the walkers, the glint of the blade disappearing into the walkers eye. Two other walkers came at him, desperately reaching for him. He let out a yell as he fell onto his back, the knife falling from his hand. He kicked at one but the other one lunged at him, its clumsy strength pressing down on him.

Rick turned at the sound, looking over at Murphy before he rushed forward. He pushed the walker off and killing it, stabbing his knife through the second one as well.

Seven more and they all turned towards them, dragging, snarling,, the curse of the whole world. The dark that had eclipsed whatever life had remained in the earth.

"Forget it." Rick said, reaching over to Murphy's holster and pulling out one of his guns. They were silencers, unlike his. "Y'mind?" 

Murphy shook his head but cringed when the shots were fired. Silenced or not. Seven bullets took out the remaining walkers before they got close enough. Rick gave the gun back to Murphy and then glanced to the staircase.

"They're up there."

"Just a bit far up, sure we can make it." He said looking for the knife and tucking it away once he found it.

Rick nodded and headed towards it. His adrenaline was high, his hands a bit shaky with it. His head was wavering between incoherent ramblings and the actual distinct voice of his own conscience.

Murphy went up first, using a chair to get better access to the second floor. He helped Rick up afterwards, finally finding themselves in the hallway. There was a basket sitting in the middle a sign that read 'good job' inside. There were bottles of water inside, jars of food and hygiene products. 

Rick looked down at it, contemplating what to do. His mouth was so dry, his body already so weak from the previous exertion downstairs. He stumbled towards there basket, taking one of the bottles up. For his thirst he had to risk it. He downed it all too eagerly and tried to adjust to the feeling of it, the bottle dropping from his hand.

After standing there awhile his head began to feel strange. He fell against the wall, his unfocused eyes turning to Murphy. He tried to speak but it felt like there was something in his throat. He tried to steady himself just as the sound of clapping reached them. The words were indistinct as he staggered to the ground. His mind was blank as well as a mess of confusion. He fell to the ground, his face pressed against the cold wood floor next to the empty water bottle. Black powder stained the bottom of the bottle. He wanted to say something but his eyes shut and blackness fell on him.


	13. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright new chapter...Love it please like I love you? :)

from the moment Rick passed out Murphy found himself in a rage. Whoever these kids were they didn't deserve the softened feeling he had fleetingly felt for them the first time he had seen them. He could have understood the walkers downstairs, a defense tactic, actually smart. But hurting someone? Hurting rick? That along wiped out the thought of this being just another group trying to survive.

A man came out clapping, the oldest of the group he had seen outside. Dark eyes, dark hair and a clever smile on his lips. Murphy already didn't like him, he could sense something about him and it wasn't just the primal need to survive.

"Seems like he was thirsty." the man said, kicking lightly at Rick's body and reaching down to take up the empty bottle. "Thankfully he didn't drink both bottles, huh? Would've killed him. Guy looks like a bag of bones anyways." He chuckled a little as he threw the empty bottle over his shoulder.

"What'd you do to him?" Murphy demanded, his hand tight on his gun.

"Maybe it was the heat? The little workout he got downstairs? Or maybe he's bit? Should we kill him right now?" Immediately the guy drew a gun, aiming it down at Rick.

Murphy lifted his gun, aiming at the guys head. "You ever used that before all this ?" He asked, his teeth gritting together with anger. "I've killed a lot of men a lot worse than you."

the guy smiled, looking at Murphy. He was unimpressed and his eyes seemed to just glint with the need to pull that trigger. Murphy recognized that look, he'd seen in before in so many men. Hadn't he also seen it in himself?

"You could pull that trigger but you'll be dead before the bullet even enters me. You and sleeping beauty down here." He made a gesture behind him and quickly sets of footsteps were heard.

Murphy looked and saw that other kids had come out, guns trained on him, their faces unreadable as they simply waited. He was trying to figure which was more likely to fire his weapon but he knew that in situations like these it was always follow the leader.

"If you're gonna kill us, do it already." Murphy urged, only a bit of fear beginning to fill him. Guns didn't scare him even if they were aimed at him. itw as Rick he was scared for, passed out and unable to protect himself.

"I wanna know what you two were doing in my town." e demanded, anger filling the dark of his eyes.

"Your town? You forget the world belongs to God."

"Hey Bible thumper, answer his question." One of the kids with a gun said, he was young. What was he? 14?

"Came for our supplies."

The man smiled, tilting his head a little. "You both are cray. How can it belong to you if you didn't find it?"

"That cabin you punks raided, it was ours."

"Sharing a cabin like a couple of homos. So much for Bible thumper." The guy said with a laugh which was mimicked by the rest of the kids.

"And what do you guys do for fun?" Murphy shot the insult back, his anger starting to boil up.

The guy didn't say anything in response but the insult had been taken and harshly. "Finders keepers." he muttered.

"We need it more than you do. With your youthful vigor you might be able to catch something wild. Ain't sure the walkers will find much on your bones anyways."

"What? A couple of guys need all that?"

"And a baby, my injured brother."

"Three men and a baby, how cute." The guy laughed again. "What kind of sick people would bring a baby into this world?"

"The kind of sick people who would kill all of you and not think twice." He replied, stepping forward despite the guns trained on him.

The guy sudden;y pulled the trigger with the gun aimed down at Rick. Murphy gasped out and looked down, his racing heart sudden;ly able to calm down as the bullet had only hit the floor. Rick had been startled, shifting a little where he was laying.

"Stay back!" The guy shouted, his anger becoming something red in his his eyes.

Murphy glanced down at Rick and then moved backwards. "don't shoot him." He breathed out, meeting the guys eyes.

"Nah, I think I want to kill you and him, and your injured brother. The baby? Well she'll make good bait." He grinned, his teeth yellowed. "Think the walkers might like the sound of her screams.

Murphy's anger rose to the breaking point and he cocked back the trigger. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. "I'll kill you!" He shouted loudly.

Rick let out a groan, moving a little as he tried to turn on his back. Murphy's eyes looked down at him. He needed him to wake up, needed him to draw his gun and add to the threat.

The gunshot rang out before Murphy felt it. The gun from his hand as blood poured out of the wound. A silent cry escaped his lips and his eyes burned with tears. The bullet had entered his left forearm, his hand trying to apply pressure to the wound. The blood slipped through his fingers, a shaking breath escaping his lips. He tried to reach again for the gun but the guy stepped on it and kicked it away.

"Let's take them to one of the rooms." The guy said as he slammed the gun in the back of Murphy's head, making him fall to the ground. He didn't pass out but his mind was blank and he couldn't control the functions of his body as he felt them drag him away.

The two gunshots rang out from somewhere far away and Connor's eyes immediately shot towards the direction. The same worry he had been feeling the whole time twisted and clenched inside of him, tearing him apart. Something could be happening to Murphy and he wasn't with him. He cursed his messed up ankle, if he had never broken it than they wouldn't be here now. They would never have had found Rick and his baby, they would be neatly tucked into their cabin with all their supplies and safe. They wouldn't be out here, scared as well without knowledge of what to do.

Judith's small cries distracted him and he looked into the car seat at her where she was laying. His heart warmed and he instantly regretted the curse. If he had it all his way he would never have changed meeting Rick and Judith, never, not for a million years.

He just needed to know Murphy was safe. Maybe if he got in there then he would know what was happening. He could feed Judith and then be on his way, couldn't he?

Agreeing with himself got a bottle and held it to Judith's lips, rocking her gently as he let his mind roam of how he would do this. He knew that he could be potentially ruining things for Rick and Murphy but he was just so damned worried, what with the gun shot. They would understand, they had to.

Just as he set out to make his way towards the town a sound drew his attention. The gunshot had drawn them over, hadn't they?

The walkers were there, a group of around twenty of them. Swallowing down harshly he watched them a moment, dropping the bottle and buckling Judith into her car seat. She was crying, still hungry and startled by his hurried actions but he really had no choice. He didn't have the means to kill twenty of them, especially not with his ankle.

They were so close to the car by the time he got in. What was he going to do? Drive into the town and attract the horde of them there? He wouldn't ever dream of leaving Murphy or Rick behind, especially not Murphy.

A walker reached out for him and he stretched his arm over to the pocket in the door where one of his knives were. It grabbed at his leg, his nails digging into his skin as he let out a yell. Finally he got away, the walker taking a shred of his pants and chunks of flesh. He grabbed the knife and turned around, stabbing the walker in its head. Kicking it out he hurriedly closed the car door and got the keys into the ignition.

Trying and trying didn't work. The car wouldn't start and he was stuck here, trapped and surrounded by a large group of walkers who were clawing at the metal of the car, trying desperately to get in.


	14. sheltered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like this chapter! Drop kudos/comment if ya do!

When Rick woke up his head felt like it was on fire, his throat felt painfully dry and his body was weaker than he had ever felt it. If he had been dying he wouldn't have been surprised but he knew that wasn't the case. His eyes slid open and he looked around at his surroundings.

A mess that was all he saw. Broken furniture, crumpled papers, broken bottles, empty cans. A trash gravesite is what it was. It smelled too, something resembling feces and piss. That was the best way he could describe it.

His mind was still dazed by the dreams that had choked his mind when he had been passed out. Dreams of Carl, Lori. Surrounding every thought and not allowing himself a moments rest. Their deaths still plagued him, the guilt still ate away at him. He was lost to its bleeding grip that he had no way to disconnect himself from.

A sound, more of a gasp, stole his attention and he turned around to look. A gasp came from his lips as well when he laid eyes on him. Not Daryl, it wasn't Daryl. Get your mind out of hell. Daryl was dead. He'd been bitten. He'd turned. Just like Carl, just like everyone. Daryl was dead and it was his sin to hold. His curse to carry, no matter how blistered his hands became.

It was Murphy. He was propped up against the wall, his eyes fluttering closed as he looked at Rick. His hand was pressed hard against a wound on his arm, blood slipping between his fingers. Pain was defining each of his features, could be heard in each breath he let out.

Rick started towards him, his head dizzy because of how quickly he had moved. "What happened?" He demanded in a low and thick voice. He had heard so many things when he had been passed out but everything had been blurred. He couldn't quote remember what he had heard but he could remember the shock of it.

Murphy groaned and looked up at Rick, his eyes slow and pained. "I was shot." He replied in a weak voice.

Rick sighed with panic reaching his eyes, they glistened with a haziness. His worry of what had happened overwhelming him. He looked down at the wound, it wasn't fatal but the amount of blood pouring out was something to fear. Murphy had done good in wrapping his shirt as a tourniquet around it and that had slowed there progression if the blood loss but the pain hadn't faltered.

"These those damned kids?" Rick questioned, looking away from the wound and towards the door.

Murphy nodded. "Think they own this town, want to kill us both."

"The door?" Rick stood up shakily and felt around the wall towards the door. It was already getting dark, the small slat of a window near the ceiling giving him that.

"Locked." Murphy stated the obvious, knowing that wouldn't stop him from checking it out.

Rick twisted at the knob but it wouldn't budge, he pushed at it but something was blocking it from the other side. Rick was far too weak to do any real damage to it. His frustration hit him . His inability to find a solution to get out of here overwhelming him. He was afraid that something would happen to Murphy, how wouldn't come out of this and the sins would rise up again from the core of his soul to suffocate him. He wasn't so much worried about himself, the only reason he would strive to escape was for Judith, for the plan to finally give The Governor what he deserved.

"Damn it!" He shouted as he slammed his hand against the door. The harsh exertion weakening him making him fall back against the wall while trying to calm himself.

They were locked in there, the both of them. Their weapons had been taken, their lives no doubt about to be taken as well. Rick had to think of something, he had to know what they were going to do to them. He had brought Murphy into this and he had to get a sure way of getting him out of this mess.

Before he could think anymore the doors chains from the otherwise rattled. Rick's gaze shot to it, his eyes observing it quietly, fearfully. He backed up a little towards Murphy, standing in front of him.

The door finally opened and Murphy saw the older kid from earlier. A smirk was on his face, something sharp in his hands. There were four kids behind him, all holding guns. Rick looked between the five men, swallowing down harshly. He wondered if they would kill them both. They looked like frightened boys, terrified of the next step they would take, if they were even going to survive tomorrow. But he knew better than to hold compassion for someone who was holding them hostage. He had done something like that before, had tried to talk his way out of a pending war. It hadn't worked, it had fallen apart and all that had come out of it was death.

"Still squirming about like a couple hamsters." The guy remarked, a smirk on his face. He looked at Rick, sizing him up with those bloodshot eyes. "Finally up on your feet old man?"

Rick didn't answer but he felt the way he sized him up. He didn't have to look him over, he already knew he was less a man than most he had known.

The guy gestured the kids inside the room. "Which one?" He asked them, his eyes looking back to them.

"The injured one, he insulted you." One of the kids said, his hands tight on his gun.

"That's right, he did. Get this one out of here." He ordered, motioning to Rick with a simple gesture off his hand.

Two of them went to Rick then, grabbing hold of him and pressing him back. The initial surprise of it made Rick go with them but immediately he struggled against them. His strength was waning, fading from inside of him. The effects of whatever he had drank in the water, the exertion he had wasted with the door and with the walkers downstairs made him weak. The boys were much stronger than they looked.

Murphy watched the two other kids approach him and he heard Rick's grunt when one of the kids holding him back slammed their gun against the back of his head. The two kids took hold of Murphy and because of his blood loss they had little trouble.

The older guy approached him, smiling as he dropped to his knees in front of him. He lifted the knife he was holding, a maniacal look in his eyes. "Now which one of these fingers do you need most?" He questioned, reaching out and taking hold of Murphy'a right hand.

Murphy tugged away, trying to fight against the hold they had on him but his weakness was like a haze in his head. "Don't, god please don't." He pleaded, tears springing to his eyes as the blade moved closer.

The guy didn't say anything he just lowered the knife to one of his restrained hands, the blade pressing sharp against his skin. All Murphy could muster out was an long scream, the blood appearing as the dulled blade pressed further against the skin of his .

Rick lifted himself up, the dizziness in his head making him stagger a little. The two kids that had been holding him back had moved on after hitting him to look to see what was happening to Murphy. Rick reached forward, grabbing one of the kids shoulders and pressing his hand over his mouth. The kid complied, handing his gun over. Rick tossed him down, trying to ignore the dizziness corrupting his conscience. He could see what the guy was doing, trying to cut Murphy's fingers off, one by one. Rick lifted the gun and before one of the kids noticed he fired off a round into their leaders head.

The kids went into a panic and for each threat they made, another round was fired off. Their bodies fell to the ground, blood pooling beneath them. Rick watched their life leave their eyes and he swallowed down nervously. Just a few kids, trying to survive. He shook his head, was this blood on his hands as well?

Murphy's screams died down once the blade had fallen away from his skin. He looked up at Rick's pondering eyes and he sucked in a deep breath. The man was a terrible wreck, a mess of trauma and torture.

Shakily he stood up, the blood loss making him fall again. "Rick..." He breathed out.

Rick looked over at Murphy and immediately tore his belt from his jeans. He wrapped it tightly around the wound, the blood spurting at the pressure and making Murphy moan with pain but it worked enough to prevent the blood loss. He took a deep breath and reached out for Murphy, grunting as he put him over his shoulder. It weighted him down, making him walk slowly but he had to continue despite the way his breath rasped out of his chest.

Murphy had passed out, his body dead weight over his shoulder. Rick searched the second floor before he stopped at the door of the basement. He entered down, the small light turned on at the ceiling. Finding the door at the end of the basement he pushed it open, their passageway no doubt to get out without meeting the walkers on the first floor. He stepped out into the blistering heat that beat down on his head. He needed to get back to that car, his deprived mind just needing to make sure Judith was alright.


	15. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter. Call me conceited but I really like this one. Haha thanks everyone who is reading!

He tried to hush Judith, not wanting to bring more danger towards them than there already was. The walkers crowded the car, their viciousness clawing its way against the windows. He reached down, deciding to try and hot wire it but a surge of frustration shot through him. It was a newer model, the damn car would not be possible to hot wire. He let out a long curse as he looked up when the car began to shake. He was nervous. His presence had been enough to draw the walkers close but now that Judith was also crying more of them were drawn near.

Looking down at his leg he hissed with pain and shock at the way it looked. A chunk of flesh had been clawed out it seemed, the wound nearly pulsating and bleeding. He swallowed down hard, unable to look at the walkers around the car. He needed to get out of here, needed to know that they were going to be safe. Safety didn't seem to be in the workings for him however. He was scared of what would happen to him. If he succumbed to the festering scratch on his leg he wouldn't see Murphy again. Most of all though if he didn't survive this then Judith wasn't surviving either.

Crawling over into the back seat he took hold of the bag that he had rummaged through before this had happened. Taking out of the guns inside he cocked it back. His eyes glanced over to Judith, hope filling them just a little intertwining with the despair he was feeling.

"Hey there princess, I'm gonna try and get us both out of this. Just rest easy alright..." He reached his hand over to gently touch to the top of her head with a worn smile. "..I'll see you when I get back."

He pushed at the door, the walker on the ground heavy but not weighted enough to block him from exiting the car. The walkers immediately sensed him and he rose his gun as he slammed the door shut behind him. Firing off a round into one of them he felt the recoil more sharply due to the pain rising up from his leg. He pressed on though, leading the walkers that were left away from the car. Turning back around to face them head on he shot out at them. The bodies flailed to the ground, the blood staining the gravel beneath them.

The chamber clicked dry and he stared at the gun with drawn eyes. His breath grew heavy and his heart raced in anticipation. He couldn't fire anymore shots and having only killed six of them he was still left with nearly fifteen. The only relief he drew from this was the knowledge that Judith was safe but if he didn't find a way to get out of this than he wasn't going to be alive for much longer himself.

He turned his back on them, his feet carrying him away and leading them down the highway they had driven down just a few hours earlier. It was growing darker and the more he ran the more Judith's cries became further away. He was alone, by himself with fifteen walkers on his tail and death sniffing up his neck. He felt himself weaken as he more stumbled than ran. The pain in his leg was stifling and his mind was racing with all kinds of fear.

He knew that he just needed to accept his fate that there were only two options left for him. He was going to die out here or he was going to go back and die from the infection in his leg. He swallowed down harshly as he found a hollow cave nearby, the dark making it seem eerily empty. He approached it and before the walkers saw him he ducked inside.

He saw the walkers in the dimming light, his fear mounting. If they found him he didn't have any means of protecting himself. If they found him he was pretty much dead already. Resting his head back he let out a low sigh, gripping the empty gun against his chest. His eyes closed and he whispered a prayer, his solemn voice the only sound in the darkening night.

Rick had eased Murphy down onto the ground before he had gone up through the basement again and up into the rooms. He found his own guns and Murphy's as well before he loaded up the kids guns into a stranded bag and pulled them over his shoulder. He saw the bags of supplies resting on the ground and he wanted to grab them. He didn't have the strength to do that, neither did Murphy. They would have to come back, bring the car, take the supplies and be on their way.

Dragging himself back outside he kept the bag of guns over one shoulder and then heaved Murphy up onto the other. He let out a long groan, nearly toppling but keeping his ground eventually. He was going to make it, Murphy wasn't gonna bleed out. They were going to survive this and soon enough they would be out of this God forsaken place, their only worry being finding enough fuel to make it to Woodbury.

Thankfully the town wasn't too far from where they had parked the car. His entire body ached by the time he saw it. He was glad though that the sun had settled a long time ago and a small wind passed by him even though it held little relief.

His fear clouded up inside of him when he heard Judith's screams. His eyes widened as he struggled to fun. Stopping himself he let Murphy down carefully, a pulling ache of guilt rushing inside of him when he heard him groan in pain. He still left him there though as he forced himself into a run towards the car. He pulled the door open, reaching inside and taking the baby into his arms. Softly he hushed her, pulling her to his chest and bouncing her a little to try and calm her.

His eyes searched the area for Connor but he couldn't find him anywhere. There was spots of dried blood on the car window and a dead walker laying on the ground. He swallowed down harshly as he looked inside the driver's side of the car where more blood was smeared. His nerves went crazy. First Murphy nearly died and now Connor was gone. More blame to be thrown on him. Tears of helplessness, of weakness glistened in his eyes.

Popping open the trunk he found the things to make Judith a bottle and clumsily did so. He quickly let her drink, her exhausted cries settling down as she fed quickly. He looked down at her, his relief over her sudden peace overwhelming him. He needed her to be safe, if she wasn't there was no use in living anymore.

Walking back to Murphy he shrugged the bag of guns off his shoulder and knelt down beside the man who was still passed out.

"Murphy..." He called out, lightly slapping at his face. "..C'mon I need you to wake up."

It took awhile but Murphy finally stirred. His eyes opened slowly as they focused and finally found Rick. "Rick..." He breathed out

Rick nodded, looking down at the wound in Murphy's arm. "Gonna have to take care of that." He said with a small gesture as he checked it without touching to see if it was bleeding as it had been before.

Murphy groaned and then gave a small nod. "God yes..." He muttered, hissing a little at the feeling of the hot ground beneath him.

Rick thought to tell him about Connor as he stood up to get the car seat from the back seat of the car but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Returning he set the little girl in and then knelt beside Murphy again. "We're staying in town tonight." He said, hoping that could give Connor enough time to come back to them, wherever he was. He would leave him a note, something like.

Closing his eyes on the memory of Sophia that suddenly filled his mind he looked away. That wasn't going to happen again. He wouldn't let it. Connor would come back and he would be alive. There wasn't going to be another barn, there wasn't going to be another death. No more promises. They all fail. All your promises fail and end in death.

"Can y'walk?" He softly asked and Murphy nodded a little. "Just lean on me, alright?"

Rick rose up again scribbling out a note for Connor before going back, taking the car seat in one hand and letting Murphy lean on him. Staying in the town was the idea he had on keeping them alive. He had to get Murphy's wound cleaned up, had to take care of his little girl. His fear was still there though. A sense of foreboding that clawed its way into his conscience. Something was going to happen. He tried to shake it off with a small, flickering light of hope as he made his way through the basement again with both Judith and Murphy but nothing worked. They were living in a world of destruction. The only thing that followed them was death. There wasn't any way to change that.


	16. Promise

Taking Judith from her carrier he carefully laid her down next to Murphy before rushing down into the basement. He felt around, his hand tight on his Python as his nerves rushed through him. He knew that it was Connor outside but in what state he was in, Rick wasn't sure. He didn't want to go back into that room only to tell Murphy that his brother couldn't be saved. He knew how that felt, to be so helpless when life was ripped away and all that remained in the emptiness was death. Death and the fear of allowing just a little bit of hope to reenter your veins.

Making his way out onto the town streets he looked into the darkness, the silver moon whispering its light onto the roads. Slowly he cocked the trigger of his gun but left it holstered. Just had to be ready, always had to be ready. That's what life was now. Always being ready to face death, to face something that could steal everything from you. Whatever it was you had left. He lifted his flashlight that he had taken with him and turned it on.

He saw Connor, almost frozen as he stared up at the inn window. He had seen movement up there and had just stood there waiting to see if someone would come out to him. Rick studied him in the dark, the light from his flashlight dimmed on him. His eyes slowly trailed to Rick, his eyes full of a weakened despair. The dark spots on the ground behind him was definitely blood, smears of it. He flickered the light about his body to see where the blood had come from. 

A sharp fear settled inside of him when his eyes saw the torn part of his pants, the blood seeping through the thick denim. Rick approached Connor carefully, kneeling down as he moved away the torn pants leg. A gasp choked in his chest as his gaze fell on his wound. A scratch, bloody and blackened. It was deep, pieces of his skin having been torn out. The pain of it was evident in his face, short gasps escaping his lips. It was already having an effect on him, the infection was spreading. 

"Rick....where's Murphy?' Connor rasped out, staying where he was as if he hadn't the strength in his body. He didn't want Rick near him, would he let anyone near him in this state?

"Upstairs." Rick replied, nodding a little with assurance as his hand gestured towards the inn.

Connor nodded as he trailed his gaze back up to the window. "Tell him that-"

Rick shook his head and made to go to him. "You're coming inside. C'mon." He ordered, taking a firm hold of his shoulder and tugging him forward.

Connor looked at Rick for awhile until what was happening just now registered in his head. He shook his head, his eyes widening with panic. "No, no I can't go in there." He said with another shake of his head as he tried to pull himself free of Rick's hold.

Rick stopped pulling him but he kept his hand on him, careful not to do something that would further upset Connor. "You're coming inside and we're gonna take care of that leg, alright?"

Connor just stared at him before he shook his head. "I...I can't."

That was when Rick pulled him carefully with him, knowing that the pain in his leg was slowing him down. He didn't say anything else, just led him back into the basement. Once they were inside Connor moved away from Rick's hold and rested back against the wall. He gasped out a long breath as he brought his eyes to Rick's.

"Saw your sign." He said, his eyes closing whenever a wave of pain passed through him. "You have to do that a lot? Lost a lot of people?"

Rick sighed and nodded. He tried not to think of Sophia. That trembling guilt rushing back through his head. He saw her tears, that plea for him not to leave her alone. He could almost feel the burn of tears rise in his eyes but he held them back. There wasn't any time for dwelling on the past. The past was gone, memories fading into the shadows of the prison. It was all lost to him. The memories couldn't matter, he couldn't let it bring him down the way it always did. He had to live with it. Death, he had learned to live with it.

"What happened out there?" He asked as he knelt down in front of Connor, looking into his eyes with a softened gaze. He could see all the pain he was feeling written on his face. That was on his head too, wasn't it? He had to count it as one of his sins. All sins lead to death. Did others have to pay for the things he had done?

"Walkers...tons of them. Tried to get your little girl." Connor shook his head at the thought. His voice was halted, his gasping breaths full of pain. "That girl deserves a chance, even in this world. I wasn't about to let that happen." 

Rick listened and it was confirmed. His little girl was the reason this had happened. Judith couldn't carry blame, that all belonged to him alone. "And your..." He gestured down to Connor's leg before looking back up into his eyes.

Connor let out a gasped laugh as his eyes looked down at the wound. "That..." He shrugged a little and then looked up at Rick again. "Damn bastard scratched me." 

Rick heavily sighed, looking down at his hands that were still somewhat stained with Murphy's blood. He knew that he had to help Connor before the pain stole his life and forced him to turn into the fate they would all suffer from. 

"I can fix it." Rick said, looking up at Connor with an outward calm voice even though inside his soul raged. Could he do this again? After what happened with Murphy? After what happened with Hershel? He tried to help people, tried to save them. Why did he always fail?

"You mean cutting off my leg?" Connor asked, holding Rick's eyes with hesitance before he laughed a little and shook his head. He looked down at his wound and then back to Rick. "That's the only way isn't it?"

Rick nodded. "That scratch it already infecting the rest of your leg and it was already hurt to begin with. We need to get it off before it spreads..."

"Before I die, you mean." Connor said, a breath of a laugh falling from his lips before he gasped in pain 

"Tell me to do it and I will. I've done it before."

"You've been pretty busy this apocalypse, huh?" Connor asked, another harsh laugh coming from his lips.

Rick managed something that sounded like a laugh but he didn't let it come out all the way. "Only way." He stated firmly.

Connor nodded and lifted himself a little against the wall. "Alright." He softly agreed. "But you're going to have to promise me something first."

Rick looked at him, his brows tensing a little together. "What is it?"

Connor sighed, another bout of hesitance filling his eyes. He was almost reluctant to say his next words but he had to get them out. He knew it was the right way to go about it, the only way they could finish this trek to Woodbury.

"You and Murph...you two continue without me. I'm staying here, I'll even take your little girl." He saw that Rick made to protest but Connor held up his shaky hand to stop him. "It's the only way we're going to finish this. And it has to be finished. I trust you with my brother, don't really know why I do but it's true."

Rick tried to think of a million things to say to protest again but he knew that Connor was right. They couldn't get to Woodbury with Connor missing a leg, with a crying baby in tow. He and Murphy could move quickly on their own, get into Woodbury and then get back out. Simple as that.

"Promise me." Connor urged, his trembling hand resting on Rick's arm, his eyes determined to make him agree.

Rick let out a long breath as he lowered his head. The promise rushed through his head, the knowledge that Connor was right. He looked back up at Connor and gave him a nod. "If Murphy agrees....I promise."

"Oh he'll agree." Connor said with a small laugh that was quickly followed by a bit of a groan. "If he knows what's good for him."

Rick couldn't bring himself to laugh as he stood. He looked around the basement, switching on the lights so that the dark wouldn't misguide him. Before Connor could question about the electricity Rick had left back up to the second floor to gather the things he would need. His hands shook and his head was wrecked with fear. This was the right way to go about it but he still couldn't stifle the foreboding darkness that suddenly choked at him. He always carried fear, it was apart of him. He couldn't shake it, he couldn't bear to let it go. Death was his and he was going to suffer through it alone. He wouldn't bring anyone down with him, it was his to suffer in. 

He sighed as he lifted the machete, seeing his reflection in the glinting blade. Tired, drawn, broken, a mess. His eyes closed as another breath escaped his lips. He was going to get through this then he would think about giving up. Only then would he think about letting himself surrender to the death that haunted him.


	17. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter after a million years...hope it's alright?

Murphy's hand absentmindedly brushed through Judith's hair, her small babbles the only sound he could hear besides the humming of the electricity. His eyes looked around the room, trying to calm himself from the pain aching through him. The pain medication was working slowly but surely. He'd no doubt be passed out with drowsiness soon and numbed to the pain he was left with. He glanced down at his arm, the burned wound and he sighed. Things hadn't really turned out for the best for him, his arm burned to shreds and Connor somewhere else. But he was alive, that ought to count for something? Rick and Judith were alive too, that counted for a whole lot.

They would be out of this ghost town soon enough, on their way to Woodbury before his wound even got to heal. Everyone encountered a fork in the road and this was exactly what it was. He just had to keep his head up, keep the plan in mind and everything else would fall into place. He didn't have time to let his faith in that falter. There was little time for anything except prayer and survival. That was tools enough to keep the four of them living.

Reaching his bad arm up he grabbed onto the cross hidden beneath his shirt and he let his eyes close. Drowning out the sound of Judith's small sweet voice he let his mind concentrate on his prayer. Praying to survive was a lot to ask for, especially when death was against you at every corner. A lot to ask for when everyone had a hell of a lot of sins on their hands. But that's what he did, that's the prayer he let circle in his head. And when he opened his eyes again, his hold falling from the cross he felt a bit lighter. He could feel hope fill him. They were going to reach Woodbury, beaten and bruised if they had to. It's what had to be done.

Turning onto his side to face Judith he softly smiled at her, his hand reaching up to stroke the top of her head. She smiled up at him, her eyes beaming with sweetness. This was their sign that things were going to work out. The fact that they had a little girl with them, a little girl who was going to survive this damn thing. She was going to outlive them all, he knew.

"You're one strong princess, aren't you?" He said with a small laugh as he touched to her light hair that was growing in. "And you're going to help us make our way to Woodbury because hell I'm starting to think that I would do anything for you. But first things first we got to get your daddy out of his funk because he isn't much fun, now is he?" He laughed at his own words. "And my brother, we got to get him to loosen up a bit more too. You and I can't be the only ones having a good time."

After awhile of watching her he rolled onto his back and let out a low breath. The pain was slowly subsiding and he wanted to drift off into sleep, he could even bring Judith into the crook of his arm but he couldn't really bring himself to. No matter how many words he said he couldn't bring himself to shake the worry filling his mind. Where the hell was Connor. It was so late already he could tell by the darkness coming in from the window. He was out there by himself and Murphy was in here all on his own. Neither of them did very well without the other. Connor had to be alright.

And where the hell was Rick? He'd just gone outside without saying a thing of what he was going to be doing out there. He had left his little girl in here with Murphy and had just gone off to do something after seeing something outside. He couldn't help being unhinged by the absence of them both. He felt uneasy about it, filled with distress about being on his own. It wasn't that he couldn't survive on his own, it was that he hated the idea of that.

With a groan he sat up despite the numb filling him and got up off the bed. He turned to Judith, taking her up in his arms and settling her into her carrier, lifting it up in his hand, his arm shaking with the weight. He followed the hall to the entrance to the basement where Rick would have gone had he gone outside. The lights were off in the inn but there was the glimmer of light coming from the basement. 

His brows tensed a little as he approached the door, setting the carrier down carefully so as not to startle him. He could hear a muffled voice and then he froze instantly when a scream echoed from inside. His heart raced rapidly and fear filled him. He shot forward, taking hold of the knob and pushing it open.

What he saw inside wasn't what he had expected to find at all. The stench of blood was everywhere, the stain of it was almost like a puddle. Connor was just about passed out on the ground, his chest still moved to indicate he was alive. Rick was standing over him, the machete in his hand dripping with blood. He didn't notice Murphy's presence and immediately he reached over to grab the same iron he had used on him to burn the open wound. The smell of burnt flesh mixed with the blood and Murphy almost doubled over at the sight.

"What the hell happened?" Murphy demanded as the drowsiness began to hit. He stumbled against the wall, his hand feeling for support as he slid down to the ground. His eyes remained on Connor's fainted form. Rick had stood up and was approaching him, drenched in his brother's blood. He couldn't get any words out though as he felt a sharp unconsciousness take him.

\---------------------------------------------------------  
Rick had done his best to clean up the blood that had practically drowned the basement. He tried to keep himself immune to the smell of it but he could feel it twisting in the pit of his stomach. To think that he'd been surrounded by it for God knows how long he would have thought that he would be used to it. Going back into the house he brought Judith back into the room and then threw the beds mattress onto the ground so he could pull Connor usually onto it. He managed to bring both brothers inside, letting them rest beside each other on the mattress before he threw himself onto the nearby chair and let out a long breath of exhaustion. 

He was already lightheaded, his limbs were trembling with exertion and his head was swimming with sleep. He let his eyes slide closed after checking to make sure Judith was still asleep before he let sleep finally take him.

He couldn't deny access to the nightmares that suddenly plagued him. Those fierce nightmares that refused to give him peace. No matter how tired he was the plague of fear stuck with him and haunted him. He saw Lori, her sweet embrace all around him, her kisses replenishing the emptiness of his soul but then he was transported into those tombs beneath the prison. He saw the walker that had been bloated with Lori's body. He saw Carl, that dead and cold stare as he waited to eat him, he saw the blood that had spilled after Rick had sent the blade into his flesh. He saw his group, those he had sworn to protect. And just like that he felt himself dying. 

In the dream he had thrown himself to the walkers that had once been his friends. He felt their teeth singing into his skin, his blood pouring onto the ground. He didn't fight back, didn't try to escape. He let his eyes close and let his soul leave him. He was dead, dead. Just like the way he should be. His reckoning had come and the foreboding of it stayed with him when he shot up in the chair.

His heart was racing, his breath hitching in his chest. His hands felt at his skin to see if any of the dream had been real. Nothing. His judgment had yet to come. Judith was still there in her carrier.

His eyes swept the room and saw the glimmer of daylight filling the room. He turned his gaze and saw Murphy sitting up next to his brother on the mattress. His eyes were waiting and filled with anxiousness.

Rick let out a long breath and rested his elbows on his knees, his face falling to his hands. "You're awake." He pointed out, pushing a hand through his hair before finally looking at Murphy again.

He nodded slowly before looking down at Connor, his missing leg. His eyes returned to Rick's with heavy question. "Mind telling me what the hell happened?"


	18. Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I need to apologize for how long this is taking me! so many things going on and I'm so so sorry! Hope this was worth the wait though!

Murphy stared in disbelief as Connor managed to get the words out through his drowsiness. He shook his head several times before letting out a breath and looking to Rick to see if he agreed. His expression was unreadable, blank. Murphy knew then that he wasn't going to have a thing to say about this. He was going to listen to Connor no matter how stupid his plan was, just like always. He could complain all day and yet no one would bother to listen to him. He knew that it was better to accept it silently but he just couldn't believe this was the plan they had come up with.

"Do you hear me?" Connor pressed, his eyes half lidded as the medicine he'd taken began to kick in again. Despite the drowsiness written on his face there was still the sense of worry glistening in his gaze. He was silently begging Murphy to accept, to just see things from his side for once, to know that he wasn't doing this just to get his way, he was doing this for all of their sakes. If he went with them he would just be a burden, the loss of his leg making him extremely unusable and taking Judith with them would only put her in danger. He needed Murphy to see that.

"You do realize that's one stupid ass decision, don't you?" Murphy demanded, his eyes a heavy glare with a thick glisten of emotion coming to swallow it up. He wanted to get upset, wanted to demand to know why he was never allowed to make the decisions and yet when he saw that underlying plea in Connor's eyes he couldn't help but let it sink back inside of him. He knew the reason behind it but that certainly didn't mean he wanted it to happen.

"Aye, of course I do." Connor said, a bit of a lazy grin making its way onto his lips. He knew Murphy wouldn't fight him on this, he never really did. He would shoot his mouth off every once in awhile but eventually he gave in, accepted the terms and did what he could with them. It was only until afterwards that he would exclaim what an idiot Connor was. But he was sure that there wasn't really anything stupid that could come out of this. He'd already done the most stupid thing by getting bit, losing his damned leg. He was stupid enough to make himself a pointless addition to their group.

"And if something happens to you while we ain't here?' He could feel his fight wearing off and something about that pissed Murphy off. Connor was right and soon enough he would have to admit it. It was the worry though that was making it so damn hard to agree. He didn't want to leave his crippled brother and a baby alone to fend for themselves. How would he ever forgive himself if something happened to them while they weren't here?

"Second floor, Murph. Not much that can happen from up here. 'Sides I won't be unarmed, we'll have food, supplies. No worries." Connor smiled a hopeful smile, going easy now on him since he was so damned drowsy and since he understood the worry that Murphy was feeling he couldn't quite get upset. He was feeling that worry too. Being without Murphy, that had never happened, not since they were little boys. Last time they were apart was when they had first been born, separated for a few minutes. Ever since then it had been the two of them only until this moment. He was just going to have to go on faith to survive this, to know that Murphy was going to be alright out there.

"And if you doze off while that little girl needs her food?" Murphy stood up, turning his back on them with a shake of his head. He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to get himself to calm down. He couldn't unravel now, not even with the unnerving panic rising up rapidly inside of him. He needed to understand it, needed to know that they were going to survive this, one way or another they would.

"I'm appalled you don't trust my ability to father a baby." Connor said with a small laugh, his eyes sliding closed and then open again.

Murphy turned around, glaring at Connor before a heavy sigh escaped his lips. He was putting up a fight, making this more difficult for all of them but they understood, didn't they? Didn't they see how hard it it was for him to sit back and take whatever plan they threw his way? Even if it was the only way any of this could be done.Surely they'd give him a few minutes of fight.

"Murphy." Rick called out in a low and firm voice, his weary eyes looking up at him from beneath his brows. His hands were clasped in front of him and his leg was gently rocking Judith's carrier. In spite of the tiredness, the haggard look of him he still embodied that sharp presence of a leader. He was haunted sure, perhaps by more than just the past but it was there and anyone could see it. "This is what's going to happen." His words came out as an order as he also silently told Murphy to just let go of the fight and accept it. The sooner the better.

Murphy made to answer but instead he just sank back into himself and nodded, his eyes turned the other way. He could feel his resistance slip away. If Rick was alright leaving his little girl he should be able to do the same. 

"Alright." Murphy said. "One condition though."

"Name it." Connor urged, looking to his brother with all the attention he could muster. 

"You don't get your crippled ass hurt." He said it in all seriousness at first until a laugh eventually came from his lips and he went to kneel down in front of his brother. "I'm serious."

"I know you are." Connor smiled and lifted his hand to clasp at the back of Murphy's neck and brought him closer. "Don't get yourself killed either, Murphy or I'm gonna have to kill you myself." He laughed a little and then looked into Murphy's eyes. "You give that Governor what God's got coming for him."

"My pleasure." Murphy replied, pulling back and lightly slapping Connor on the back. "Now get some rest."

Connor nodded, situated himself onto the mattress and rested his head back onto the pillows. His eyes closed and after several moments of the pain twitching at his features he let the medicine take over.

Murphy turned to look at Rick with an expectant gaze. He wanted to know who had come up with such a damn crazy plan. He knew it sounded like his brother, all the stupid plans did anyways. "He come up with it?' he asked, his hand gesturing back to Connor.

Rick nodded a little, finally letting the carrier still as he stood up. He rubbed a little at his eyes, his form standing in front of the window as the lavender morning began to rise up behind him. A soft vision to be marred by the vicious heat as the hours collapsed onto them.

"'Course he did." Murphy sighed and shook his head a little. "Surprised rope wasn't involved." He let out a small laugh as he looked up at Rick a little.

Rick let out a small laugh before he approached Murphy, gently taking hold of his arm. "Y'should get some rest too. Maybe a couple of hours? We'll be on our way then."

"And you? What'll you do?" Murphy asked, his concern well noted in his voice. It surprised him to realize how worried he suddenly was over this man he barely knew but it was there. Worry over Rick and his little girl. He just couldn't help it. They needed a little looking after.

"Get everything ready." Rick said, walking away immediately before he heard anymore protests.

Murphy watched him leave thinking of going after him, protesting why in the world he wouldn't rest himself until he realized that Rick wouldn't listen to him at all.Probably best just to let him be. He sighed and went to rest on the couch that Rick had previously sat in. His eyes closing after a moment of watching Judith's sweet sleeping form.

 

\-------------------------------  
Rick closed the driver's seat door, trying to settle his shaking hands as he took hold of the wheel. His heart was racing with fear, with nerves, with every single bit of worry this world could make him feel. He glanced several times in the rear view mirror hoping to catch a last look at Judith again. But she was still too small to rush out into his arms to say goodbye. She was still too small to understand that he was leaving and for what purpose. 

He'd found a working car parked behind the inn and the keys hadn't been hidden at all. Just another thing to prove this was what had to be done. He had to get to Woodbury, he had to finish this.

He swallowed down the tears threatening to take hold as Murphy settled into the passenger seat, his emotions without the barrier of being stifled. 

"Here's to hoping we make it back." Murphy said with a faint trace of a smile, his hand touching to the spot where his cross was beneath his shirt. 

Rick looked at him, his tired eyes studying the faith that was making his worry alright suddenly. He felt a nerve of jealousy rise up inside of him. He wished he had that faith that told him his little girl would be alright. But did that work for a man like him? Whose hands were stained with the blood of the dead? The blood of those who had depended on him? It didn't. The only thing that came to men like him was judgment.

He only nodded to Murphy before starting up the ignition and pulling away from the curb. The car cutting forward through the pastel morning that was slowly sinking into a blistering afternoon. They'd be outside of Woodbury by nightfall, Rick was almost sure of it.


	19. dead

He stopped the car when he saw the familiar road. The prison wasn't far. He could almost smell its familiar scents in the air, could taste its ashy isolation on his tongue. His heart was beginning to race. He was seeing all this come to fruition, finally being realized what he had harbored inside of him for so long. He had longed for this moment, needed it when nothing but agony had filled him. Now he was here, unsure what had given him the push to capture it but not bothering to question, not bothering to care about the whys. He was here and that, in itself, was what mattered.

This place was far removed from the beach area they had just left. The woods were dense, thick. The smell of trees whispered its strength on the wind. There were bugs suspended in the heat, a sky of an intense and angry blue. This was the reflection of his past he had tried so very hard to shelter himself from. This was the place that had stuck with him in his nightmares. This cracked road, dirt kicking up in the air with each roll of the tires and dozens of trees and shrubs that would outlive them all. 

He couldn't speak, couldn't bear to. All he saw in his head was the memory of when he had stepped up to that small hill, Daryl at his side and let his eyes roam with relief at the prison before him. This was supposed to be their haven, their safety. They were supposed to build a life for themselves here. He was supposed to open the door to the dark chambers of his soul once they had been tucked away behind those high fences. He was supposed to let them all in. But once they were in there, no one had been able to rest, no one had been able to live. Death was at every corner, still no matter where they turned.

Quietly he stepped out of the car, taking the keys with him. He didn't look at Murphy, didn't signal for him to follow but he heard his door open anyways. His boots planted on the road and he looked about himself in the darkness. Nothing. Not a sound. Not even walkers roaming. This place was a graveyard. Hadn't it always been? With the bodies of inmates and walkers roaming the yard? This place had always belonged to the dead. He just hadn't seen it then.

He walked at a quick pace without letting it turn into a sprint. His hand was firmly set on his Python and his eyes were clouded and marred by the nightmares that refused to let him our of their grip. This was his past. Why had he thought to come back here? That didn't make any sense. It didn't make any sense to allow himself to slip back into the darkness he had tried to outrun. And yet it made every point of sense. He couldn't pretend it didn't exist anymore. He had enough of running.

Finally the prison came into view and he heard Murphy take a long breath. The place was still a fortress, tall, fenced and yet it was charred by enemy flames. He could still see the places where the watchtowers had been. He could see where Maggie and Glenn had stood, he could see every place a bullet had sunk into. He could hear screams, the sound of blood spraying out, gun fire, explosions. The sounds stuck with him, struck him coldly in the back of his mind, raging its way into the front of it viciously tearing him apart. 

He knew that Murphy wanted to say something, could almost hear him part his lip in the silence but Rick didn't stay to find out what words he wanted to say. He couldn't bear a word of sympathy. Not now, not when his soul was still savagely bleeding. He couldn't make room for softness when he was still so hardened by the torment that he had let control his life. The agony that had shaped him into a shell of the man he had been. Was there hope for someone like him? Was there absolution for a wounded spirit like himself?

He glanced at Murphy, saw the way his eyes had closed, his lips slowly moving as if he was saying a prayer. Did he really pray to God? Was there really a God to pray to? Of course there was, one that was looking down at Rick now, staring at his sins, trying to perhaps lead him away from the path of destruction he was heading down. Was he living the right way? Was he doing the right thing coming here to Woodbury? It had to be. It was the only thing he could make sense of.

Leaving Murphy where he was standing he walked towards the prison, ignoring the walkers on either side of him. Scavengers looking for anything that could fill their insatiable need for flesh. He could feel a tremble rush through him, shaking him at the core of his soul. He felt lightheaded, his strength failing him as he forced his feet to continue walking. He couldn't stop here, not when he had gotten so far now. He couldn't let go of the keys to his nightmare, couldn't walk away from the end. The only way to crawl out of hell was to get burned a little.

He heard footsteps behind him and a warm breeze fluttered through his hair. Murphy was there, walking in time with him, his steps more leveled than Rick's but he was hesitant all the same. Rick lowered his eyes to every blade of grass he crushed, every bit of sand pushed back down into the ground. He stopped walking instinctively as if he had known exactly how many steps had to be taken before he got to the doors of the cell block. He had it memorized. How could he even possibly forget?

\Throwing open the doors made a loud and almost painful echo to rip through the silence. The walkers were stalking closer. Rick wasn't afraid. How could one be afraid of death when they tasted it so many times? How could he be afraid when he was already languishing in the purgatorial darkness of his suffering? He just shook off their approaching threat and stepped into the cellblock. He held his breath, closed his eyes, tried to block out the memories rushing rapidly through his mind. This was just a prison, nothing more. There wasn't a past here. It was just a prison.

Death. Decay. Rotting flesh. The smells shocked him and his eyes opened quickly. He'd forgotten. Oh God, how had he forgotten? Their bodies, what was left of them, were strewn everywhere on the cold ground. Flesh turning to nothing on their bones, blood staining the ground, rot hanging in the air. This was more than a graveyard, more than a tomb. This was the site of a massacre. A massacre he had ended. Ended with the blade of his knife. The wind whistled in, disrupting the smell and bringing it closer to him. No, no why had he forgotten?

The gates to the actual cell block were open, like he had left them. More bodies were in there. They were all moved. How could they have been moved? Did it matter? Nothing mattered. He looked up those dampened gray stairs that led to the perch where Judith's makeshift crib had been set. He could hear her cries when he had been trying to sleep and he would go up to her, take her in his arms and hold her close, trying not to look into those eyes that looked so much like Lori. She wasn't here now though and thank God for that. She didn't belong in this hell.

Turning he saw his own cell, the one he had nearly starved to death in with Judith. She had been so small then, her cries becoming weaker and weaker by the minute. Why hadn't he died then? Why hadn't he let it all end then? It could have been so easy to let death take him then before this started, before he had let himself fall down this road again. It would have been the remedy to all of his wound. To no longer live, to no longer feel, to no longer hurt.

His eyes turned, settling on the body lying near the stairs and everything inside of him stopped. He was unrecognizable, his body wasn't even that anymore. He had deteriorated into nothing but hanging flesh on rotted bones. His boy, his son. Lying there, taken apart by walkers and his own blade. No more cold blue eyes to look at him, to both love him and hate him. He would never live again, that sheriff's hat resting on his head atop his dark, messy hair. He wasn't his son anymore, he would never be his son. He would exist in the faded shadows of his mind.

He looked up at Murphy, whose eyes were taking in the sight around him. The scene of a massacre. What thoughts were going through his mind? He probably thought this was Woodbury's doing. What would he say if he told him that he had done this? That he had pushed the knife into them when their death had taken them? Could he even continue with him? Would he even see him the same? He had killed his own group and here he was standing, looking back on the result of his massacre.

"I shouldn't have come here." He finally said as he walked past Murphy back out into the heated night. He stumbled towards the cross markings planted into the ground. The makeshift headstones. His steps were shaky and he fell to his knees, grasping weakly at the ground beneath him. Lori was beneath him. Where was she now? Where was she when he needed her to appear to him, calm the restlessness of his soul"He didn't deserve her coming to him. He didn't deserve a rest. He was dead, he was a curse.

He heard Murphy come back, standing behind him silently staring at the crosses. 

"I should've stayed dead." Rick whispered, shattering the silence again with his haunted words that came out as the first prayer he'd spoken in so long.


	20. Buried

It ad taken hours and by the time Murphy found that they were finished with the last amount of dirt shoveled on he noticed the flare of light reaching the sky. It had taken nearly a whole day to finish up and still the place looked like the entire world had fallen on this one place. Its ashy walls subjected to splatters of blood, the hard ground smeared with remnants of walkers. This place was a torture chamber for the weakest hearts, this place was a tomb for all the people that had died here. It used to be a fortress, a safe haven for everyone that had dwelt here but now it was just a nightmare.

With a low and exhausted breath Murphy dropped his shovel, hearing it dully clang off the grass as he stared down at the mounds of dirt they'd created. Bodies were beneath them. Bodies of people Rick had known. A shiver crawled up his spine at the thought. These were all people Rick had known before, had loved. His wife, his son, his best friends. He wondered idly if Daryl was under there, the man who had his face. And then the thought came to him that Connor could have been buried too if Rick hadn't cut off his leg, if he hadn't saved his life. He closed his eyes and whispered another prayer.

His eyes opened when he heard footsteps approach him and the makeshift graves. Rick had stepped away when the last couple shovels of dirt had to be hauled but now he was back, walking as slow and rigid as before. His eyes were full of an unspoken pain as he stared down at the graves. He was holding somethings in his hands. Crosses, identical to the ones already in the ground. These weren't just makeshift graves, these were resting places for all those people Rick had known. 

I should've stayed dead. Had he really meant it? Did he really think that he wasn't allowed to live? That he deserved whatever death was stalking them at their heels? That he was supposed to be torn apart by the walkers roaming about this yard? If that was what he deserved, if that was what should have happened than it would have happened already. Murphy knew though that he couldn't actually come out and say that though. He knew that feeling that way and being able to break out of it was only something that Rick himself could realize and capture. Murphy couldn't settle his aching spirit, no one could do that.

He stayed silent the whole time as Rick knelt down shakily. He was there in his skin but was struggling against the confines of it. He had to bury his family today after months and months of isolation, after months of their corpses deteriorating. His soul would be ripped out because of this, his ability to be strong would falter but he wouldn't lose it. His strength wouldn't expire, Murphy knew that. No matter how much he thought in high regards of Connor, his da, he knew that this man here, Rick Grimes was the strongest man he'd ever met. 

Murphy saw Rick flinch slightly when a blister no doubt caught his skin from the wood crosses when he buried it into the ground. One by one the scraping sound of the dirt against the wood. How many graves had they dug? How many crosses would the ground carry until Rick came to a stop? Blood had seeped into the dirt, corpses would lie turning to ash in the ground. All Murphy could do was whisper a prayer for the people that laid beneath the crosses. 

Time passed and Rick finally stood to his feet. It took him awhile to turn his eyes away from the graves and to Murphy. He was dirtied, the front of his shirt loaded with splatters of dirt, his hands nearly bloodied from the blisters and blackened from the dirt. The curls of his hair had dampened onto his forehead, the sweat creating pearls to drip from his strands. His hands were lightly shaking, his jaw was tense, his eyes were almost half lidded, tired, exhausted. 

"Done?" Murphy questioned, keeping his own eyes on Rick's. He could feel his own skin slick with sweat, dirt was covering his own clothes and body. His hands were full of blisters, his head laden with a sharp tiredness that he hadn't really expected. He had done a lot of strenuous labor before but this had taken all of his energy away. Not to mention how famished he was, his stomach growling, he would be surprised if he didn't almost faint on his way back to the prison. That looked the same for Rick, exhaustion gripping onto him tightly. But this sort of exertion was one of his soul as well, desperately clenching inside of him.

Rick slowly nodded, letting a breath escape from his lips. He lowered his head and took a step back from Murphy, pushing his hand shakily through his sweat laden hair. He swallowed down harshly on the dryness that had coated his throat, feeling a slightly prickly feeling there. He needed food, needed to drink something, anything. "Think we should get inside. There might be....stuff left." He muttered, gesturing weakly towards the prison before he shakily made his way towards it. It wasn't too far a walk from this side of the fence to the entrance of the cell block but he already felt as if he were about to waver.

Murphy watched him until he simply couldn't take anymore of him wavering, of his exhaustion getting the better of him. He rushed forward and took hold of him around his waist, clutching him against his side and leading him towards the cell block. Carefully he set him down on one of the benches that was conveniently set against one of the walls before he began to look around for something to give to him. He knew perhaps that this wasn't the best place to bring him, blood smeared everywhere and the remnants of the people he loved hanging in the air but what other choice did he have?

He managed to find something and he hastily brought it forward, kneeling in front of Rick who looked about ready to pass out. He held the styrofoam cup to his chapped lips and tilted his head back so that he could drink. Rick swallowed it down, the movement of his throat the only indication that he had and Murphy repeated the process. He could see the glisten of tears in Rick's eyes, the pain flickering within those depths before he closed them as the water flushed down his throat once more.

After a few more drinks Murphy sat back on his heels and watched Rick awhile even as the light became brighter outside and a heat seemed to radiate inside the prison walls. They were already gone two days and Murphy hadn't even had the time to think about Connor or Rick's little girl. He didn't even have the time to think about what their plan for Woodbury would be. Being surrounded by death often did that, being surrounded by nothing tore you apart.

"We have to go." Rick stated finally, his voice a surprising ring in the silent echo of the prison. He looked up, his gaze still so weak and yet so entirely determined. Beneath all fo that agony, that despair he was a leader, a man with the cold and hardened mission that he hadn't realized yet. What was it that he was meant for amidst all of his sorrow? Surely one more couldn't be meant solely for death,

"You should get some rest first though." Murphy stated, trying to sound at ease with letting Rick up even though he feared for him as much as he had before. That little girl back in that town needed her daddy to come back to her and she needed him back a strengthened man. He was determined on making that happen.

Rick shook his head and forced himself up, closing his eyes as he got his strength about him. "We leave now." He said firmly, taking his Python from its holster and checking its chamber. With a satisfactory look he set it back and looked at Murphy. "Woodbury ain't far. We're going." 

Murphy had no choice but to follow. He walked behind Rick, his nerves and excitement mixed into one and growing inside of him. Woodbury. He couldn't even imagine what would await them there.


	21. Arrival

They made their way towards Woodbury. Murphy looked up at those tall and gated walls with a bit of awe. To think they had found a way to capture civilization while keeping the walkers out. It seemed impossible, in this world when darkness was all that choked them, when fear was a way of life. This place seemed too good to be true, to be real but it was. It was right here, right in front of his eyes. A fortified town with walls, with buildings, with actual people. How many lived here? He wondered distantly what it would be like to live within those walls as if the whole world hadn't fallen apart around them.

But it was too good to be true. If the sight of the prison had anything to say about this Governor who was the head of Woodbury then that meant that he was one sick bastard. Killing all those people, leaving them to rot away as corpses on a cold prison floor. If he would do that to those people what sort of danger were the people of his town in? What sort of things did he inflict on them if they didn't do what he wanted them to? The thought was chilling and it made him turn away from the walls and from the thoughts of what it would be like to live within them.

He felt Rick tug at his arm and he nodded, following after him quietly. He kept his hand on the gun inside his coat, kept his eyes alert as he glanced around. It was so quiet, the soft wind whispering heatedly through the surrounding trees. The lights from the walls were enough to keep him on edge. What would happen if they got caught? If those men patrolling the walls were to see them? Would death be imminent then?

Rick took the path Michonne had led him towards the first time they had gone into Woodbury, to find Glenn and Maggie. He tried not to think of that day, tried not to think of the hope he had felt when he had gotten them out, when they had gone back for Daryl, but then he had wanted to go with Merle instead of back to the group. Should have turned him back around. Should have let him go. He couldn't think of that. He couldn't think of any of it, couldn't let the past overwhelm him.

He led Murphy towards the back storage rooms, careful not to make any noise. He closed his eyes a moment, trying desperately to rid himself of the agonizing feelings bound inside of him. He could scream and yet nothing would take it away. He was permanently stuck with it, lost forever to its fevered sway. But he had to focus, had to keep his mind on taking out the sole threat that had ravaged both his group and the memories clouding his head now. This was his nightmare that he was stepping into and he just wanted it to end, needed it to end.

He looked back at Murphy, his eyes unfaltering in the determination he was showing him. Murphy had to know he was serious about this, just because he was weak didn't mean all of this was going to come crashing down around them. He was in this until it ended. For Judith's sake, his own, even Connor's and Murphy's. He wasn't going to plan something only to let it fall down, he was determined to finish it even if it ended up killing him. He had no control over death but he had control over how this would play out. It had to play out the way he wanted it to. 

Murphy nodded to him, understanding the silent thoughts he was conveying in the depths of that broken gaze. He followed behind Rick, just as quietly, aware that a wrong step could possibly send something of an alarm throughout the city. They didn't need that, they were already weak as it was, only a few weapons, just enough ammo and their own tired strength. They were poorly prepared but it was all that they could afford given the time that they had. 

Finally they reached the intended door. Rick nodded reassuringly to him, quietly opening the door with a knife in the lock and slipping inside. Murphy followed behind him, glancing back at the streets they had left behind. When Rick disappeared inside Murphy did as well, his shoes heavy against the wood floorboards beneath him. Rick had told them that it was a storage room but this looked more like an apartment or a bedroom. There was a soft light beside a bed, a small refrigerator, freshly washed bedding. It was like stepping into a room that belonged to a woman. The only difference from other rooms were the iron bars on the windows, a bedroom that looked something like a prison.

Rick's brows furrowed as he glanced around, wondering if maybe they had taken a wrong turn, or this hadn't been the right way at all. Yet he wasn't one to forget directions, this was the same path he had taken with Michonne but this wasn't the same room, not at all. This looked more like a bedroom than anything. He looked back at Murphy confused for a moment before stopping when a sound came from the bed, the shadows of a moving figure from behind the canopy catching their eyes and making them both stand frozen.

He held his hand out to Murphy indicating he wanted him to wait before slowly and carefully making his way towards the bed, drawing his Python from its holster. He could feel his heart rapidly race inside his chest, his breath catching in his chest that rose and fell without cease. Sweat pearled on his forehead as he tried to calm the fear rising inside of him. What if it was someone who was beginning to change? Would he have to put someone else out of their misery as well? After all this was nothing more than a glorified prison.

"Phillip?" A soft voice called out from the bed, the shadow behind the canopy slowly pulling back the material shielding them from seeing her. The bed was dipping and the white skin of her hands could be seen. The voice was so familiar, Rick recognized it almost immediately and he stood there frozen at the sound of it. He swallowed down harshly, his hands shaking as it gripped the gun. This wasn't what he had expected when he had come here. Not another ghost. Not another memory shooting through his mind reminding him how terribly he had failed.

Murphy watched the saw Rick stiffened, how his gun lowered and a tenseness took over the fear in him. The loss of his fear made Murphy rest somewhat easily. But his curiosity was still there. Who was it that was on that bed? Who moved about behind that canopy? He couldn't make out a form or face but he knew that it was a woman. A woman staying in this room? Weren't there apartments around here rather than a place like this that looked like some kind of prison? He took a step forward as well, his hand still on his gun but was loosely gripping it.

Finally the canopy opened and Rick's eyes fell upon the woman sitting there. His thoughts were confirmed, his eyes that were usually hardened were softened with both memory and pain. The tenseness of his jaw fell away as he watched her, observed her with a hard familiarity. He shook his head as he tried to take a step forward but ended up stumbling on his own feet. She was actually there, someone was left, someone he had let down, yes but she was here. She was still here.

"Rick?" She questioned, her eyes widened with shock, surprise, relief. She rubbed at them, blinked as if she was trying desperately to see if it was a dream. Her eyes went to Murphy, his brows furrowing lightly. "Daryl?" She was confused, she was almost scared as if she was lost in some kind of nightmare that kept playing in the depths of her mind. It was like she was scared that this wouldn't be real, that in a couple of minutes she would wake up and they would disappear from in front of her eyes. 

"My name's Murphy, miss." Murphy said, stepping forward and looking down into her clouded blue eyes. She was in good shape, despite the barred windows. "Think Rick here will wanna explain first." And with that he stepped back again, not feeling like it was his place to speak when something of a reunion was taking place. He turned his eyes to Rick, measuring the amount of pan flickering across his tired features. He had thought this woman was dead, that was apparent. 

Carefully she stood up, moving slowly to Rick and touching lightly to the shirt he was wearing, the dirt and blood staining it. The blonde mussed curls of her hair fell down her back as she shook her head lightly. She reached up and touched to his face, sucking in a breath before stepping back. "Rick." She whispered as tears glistened in her eyes, they fell and she lowered her gaze. "I thought you were dead." She whispered, her voice broken.

Rick closed his eyes and then slowly opened them. He stared at her a moment before his tears also began to fall. He fell forward, resting his head on her shoulders as he gripped onto her, his hands trembling. Her arms went around him, holding him closer, her fingers smoothing down the back of his sweat laden hair. "Andrea..." He whispered, the sound hoarse and cracked as he tried to stop the tears from falling.


	22. Plans

Rick sat there, watching her. His eyes never leaving her face as he told himself over and over that this was real. This was actually happening. He couldn't convince himself that it was, couldn't tell himself that this wasn't a dream. How could it not be? When had he ever found somebody alive? When had someone he cared about survived this world so that he was able to see them alive, see them again? No one, so how could Andrea be here? The gnawing knowledge that he hadn't been the one to help her, hadn't been the one to keep her safe surfaced and he felt himself drain again of strength. He felt himself drain of hope all over again.

Andrea was sitting beside him, her warm hand resting on his still as he glanced towards him every few minutes. She recognized the change in him, noticed the darkened difference that was reflected in his eyes. This wasn't the same man that had been on Hershel's farm, this was somebody entirely different. He wasn't alive anymore, all life had left his eyes, no longer to come out again. Her heart ached for him the way hers did for all the others. She tightened her hand on his and then again turned to Murphy.

"Been here the whole time. I'd heard all the rumors about the prison. That the group had either moved on or had been overrun. It all plagued my nightmares, the idea that something could have happened to all of them." She sighed, feeling almost unable to go on as the memories began to be recounted in her mind. But she knew she had to make them understand her position, she had to make them see that she didn't belong here, she wasn't here because she wanted to be.

"Seems like it was a hot topic in these parts." Murphy said bitterly, the images of the state of the prison flashed through his mind. Those charred and rotted bodies. That body he had known to be Rick's son. They had been left there, had been eaten away by time and death. No one cared. It was another problem dusted out of the way. He felt defensive. He hadn't known these people but he knew Rick and he could see the man visibly breaking and shattering in front of him because of all of this. Whoever did that to Rick was going to have to pay recompense for everything they did. And Murphy feared there just wasn't enough that any man could do to repay such a thing.

Andrea nodded, her sadness glistening in her blue eyes as she stared at Murphy. She was struggling not to see Daryl there, telling herself that the similarities were just coincidences, a trick of the eye. But it wasn't, he had his face and she couldn't hide the shiver that ran down her spine at the sight. She didn't even know who this Murphy was, but if he was here with Rick somehow she knew she could trust him.

"One night I slipped out of here, managed to get past the walls and on the otherside. It took em awhile but I finally found it and everything inside of me just died." She sucked in a breath and lowered her eyes. The memories still plagued her. The feeling of betrayal she had felt for not leaving with Michonne that day, the feeling of betrayal for being on the wrong side. And with each memory the bitter feeling of being isolated faded. She wasn't upset and hurt anymore that she had been left behind. She had gotten over that a long time ago.

"I saw all the bodies. Daryl, Michonne, Maggie, Ca-" She stopped with a glance up to Rick who visibly stiffened. Yes, he knew his son was dead and the thought ripped through her. How much could one group of people suffer? She turned her eyes back to Murphy now, unable to see the haunted look on Rick's face. He was lost to them, or seemed to be. "I tried to bury them, tried to get them out of there, give them the kind of end they deserved." Her voice trailed off as tears built further in her eyes. Her hands began to shake over Rick's and she felt her heart fiercely beat out of her chest. "But Phillip found me. He had noticed I was gone and managed to figure out where I would be. He and his men came there. They made me leave them all there, rotting, dead..." She shook her head as more tears fell and quickly she wiped them away with the back of her hand. "...he brought me back here, told me I was never supposed to leave again. And I haven't." Her voice finally grew stronger as she said it. She was a prisoner too. To this town, to her fear, to her memories, her failures.

Silence fell over them, a quiet that darkly fell over them. Andrea looked ahead of herself, her hand trembling over Rick's. Murphy watched the two of them, feeling guiltily relieved that he and Connor had survived throughout this whole thing. He saw the haunted looks on both of their faces, the sorrow that emanated from them. He had managed to survive, had managed to stay beside his brother and had gotten through all the death that was surrounding them.

Rick took a breath, looking over at Andrea and then slowly rose to his feet with a long breath. He walked away from them, going over to the barred windows and looking down at the lack of commotion out on the streets. No one knew they were here, no one knew that there was a potential plan to end all of this rising up just within their very walls. They were ghosts, looking down at their world and waiting, just waiting for the right moment to get through this. The dark was nothing but a shadow over his head, the memories eating away at the life left behind within him.

Him, Andrea and Judith. They were the only ones left. The only ones remaining of their group. Death had taken them all and it hadn't even been the walkers who did it. The image of that night burned in his mind again. The Governor, his men, all those burning bullets. How had he let this happen? Why couldn't he have protected them better? He had loved them, he had wanted nothing more than to keep them safe. Why hadn't he been able to keep them alive? He had been their leader and they had trusted him and now they were dead.

Andrea watched Rick walk away before she looked back at Murphy. Her eyes held his before she stood up again. "Is he..." She realized that it was stupid to have asked that, stupid to have even felt that apart of him might still be alive. He was probably more numb than she was, he was probably feeling more darkness than she could ever imagine. He had seen all of them die, had seen his family ripped away from him by bullets. He had witnessed their massacre and here he was alive, but just barely. A shell of pain that no one could get through to.

Murphy shook his head lightly and took a few steps closer to Andrea. He could see the care in her eyes. It was love that she felt for Rick and he felt relief that he had someone else besides Judith that cared about him. There was a small glimmer of light glowing in the distance for him. There was still a hand he could clutch onto in order to pull himself free of the clutches of death and misery. There was no way that he was going to let him fade, he couldn't let that happen. 

"How did you...how did the both of you meet?" She asked, trying hard not to stare at the features of his face. Just seeing him was filling her with a sorrow. She had seen Daryl's body, she knew he was dead. 

"Out by the coast me and my brother....we found him." He replied, letting a bit of a smile brighten his face a little. He wanted to show her that things were alright, she hadn't failed just yet. He wasn't even sure how he understood what she was feelings, what emotions were rising up inside of her but he recognized them and wanted to soothe them somehow. "Found him and his little girl."

She let out a small gasp at his words. "Judith? She's alive?" That earned her a nod and she smiled, glancing back at Rick who was still looking at the window impassively. Slowly she turned her eyes from him and looked back at Murphy. "What are you two doing here?"

He wondered what her reaction would be to their plan. Would she be upset? Would she try and stop them? Or would she know that this was the way that they had to do it?

"We're going to kill him." He answered, glancing at Rick who was now looking back at them, his blue eyes glistening with some odd look of relief. "We came here to kill this Governor."


	23. Void

She hadn't questioned it, unsure if that's what she wanted to do. Could she live another day knowing that someone else's blood had been shed? Could she sit there knowing that another life was to be taken despite the sudden calm, albeit anguished, that had settled over Woodbury. Things were returning to the Utopia she had tricked herself into believing in when she had first gotten here. There were things that could be rid of, people that could be dispatched. But just killing him? Was that even humane?

Murphy knew what she was thinking and how could he really argue with her? These people that were now surrounding him were so much plagued by death, by murder, by bloodshed. There weren't many people that could survive being followed by it. This woman had seen people she loved die, he could see that echoing in her eyes, could see it alive in her features. She was falling apart in front of him in this strange and decorated room that she seemed to be held prisoner in.

Rick turned to face them and there was a feud of emotions in his eyes. He had seen something, thought of something that was somehow making something clear right now. He was fighting against the darkness that had somehow caught him in its clutches. He was struggling for life when he was wallowing n death. It was the eternal struggle, one that would follow after him perhaps forever and only time could tell if he gave into the agony or not. If he let go of everything alive inside of himself and let himself die a cold and buried man.

He trailed his eyes down to Andrea and stepped forward, looking down into her eyes and letting out a breath. He gave her a nod to some unspoken question that was lingering in the air and whispering silently between them. He took a hard swallow, his hands clenching and un-clenching at his sides. "It's all that we can do." He whispered, his eyes unmoving from hers as tears stood at a standstill inside of them. He was hurting, so badly too. He wanted somehow to wrap them up in their arms and promise him that things were going to be alright, that life was going to be alright, that it would work out. But the distanced and hard memory of Lori came up and he realized that nothing like that would ever exist for him again.

"But what if we find another way?" It wasn't that she was pleading for Phillips life, it wasn't that she was hoping they wouldn't kill him because there was a definite part of her that hoped that they would. It was just this town, the people that inhabited it that were innocent of every sin The Governor committed. These streets had seen and tasted too much blood, had seen too much death. "There has to be another way. There's always another way." She whispered, her eyes wide and hopeful as she held Rick's gaze.

He sighed and slowly shook his head. His eyes looked to Murphy and then again to Andrea. He had contemplated her plea for a mere second before it was thrown out. He wouldn't even hear it. There was one life he wanted and that was his one moment for sheer and utter vengeance. It couldn't be denied to him, could it? "If there was another way we would have found it." He whispered, almost apologetically.

Murphy could see something between them. They had known each other before, there was a knowledge there. There was something almost unseen whispering its way around them. He wondered inwardly what it was, what it could be? Could it have been some sort of feeling other than the natural care for someone who was surviving just as you were? He wasn't sure he'd never gotten the time to think about things like that. His life had always been about his and his brother's calling, the streets of Boston, his family. That's what mattered to him for so long and then the world fell apart. Sometimes time just wasn't long enough.

Andrea nodded, lowering her eyes like she was trying hard to adjust herself to the idea. She could understand that this was what was going to happen. She wanted to smile, wanted to throw her arms around Rick, thank him because this meant her release as well but she couldn't find the words to do so. All she could think of was the fear that would fill the town when the first gunshot was heard.

Rick turned from her and found some people that resting near one of the tables as well as a pen. He brought it over and spread it out on the table's surface nearby. His strokes with the pain were weak, shaky but neither Andrea or Murphy made a move to help him. They weren't even sure what exactly he was doing. His eyes were focused, his brows knitted together and his jaw tense. As he wrote it became clear just what he was writing out on the paper. It was some sort of a map and Murphy nodded a bit impressed. It was Woodbury.

It was obvious that this had been Rick's plan from the beginning. Every corner and alley was well documented on Rick's drawn map. He hadn't forgotten a thing. Murphy knew a bit about that, all the places that something terrible had happened to him still blared loudly in front of his eyes. He couldn't dispel the images in his head of the terror he and Connor had had to live with. It was so easy to forget about that but now here he was amidst the aggressive dead and the only thing left for him to remember was the darkness that came with those days rather than the light.

Andrea and Murphy listened as Rick told them his plan. They nodded every few moments, Andrea filling him in to names, places. It was dangerous that's what Murphy could think, that's all he could think of. Could he get back to his brother were he to do this? Could he get Rick back to his baby girl and boy? And could he lead Andrea out of this place that was suddenly a prison?

Finally he was done speaking, the plan was passed between ears and he stood there, looking between the two of them. Rick nodded in assurance at them both before all of their eyes turned towards the doors as the knob was twisted. Rick looked to Andrea and she nodded with a hard swallow. This wasn't the right time. Right now everything was resting in the hands of the one man standing on the other side of the door. Rick wished that it could be over now, wished that he could just end it but there was something in her eyes that asked just for a bit more time and he nodded, surprising his own self.

Rick and Murphy went somewhere where they could hide, the only place being beneath the bed. They could see Andrea rush about before she unlocked the door and a separate set of boots entered. Rick held his breath, the entire atmosphere around him thickening and tightening in his chest. He glanced at Murphy who hadn't moved a muscle, neither of them did. They knew what that would cost Andrea and they couldn't have their plan ended well before it even got started. Things had to be carried on towards the end this time.

"Phillip." Andrea softly said, her greeting surprisingly held back from the tension surrounding the room.

"Are y'ready to come out?"

There was a pause and then Andrea shifted back towards the bed and sighed. "I am. Won't happen again. I promise."

A small chuckle came out from The Governor's lips and he stepped towards the door. "Well c'mon then." He said and Andrea's steps followed after him, slipping out the door. The door was left wide open giving Murphy and Rick both an opportunity to slip right out.


	24. Disruption

They were able to slip out, looking around to make sure no one was watching as they made their way out onto the streets of Woodbury. Rick managed to close his jacket to hide the holster with his Python and Murphy was already wearing a concealing enough coat despite the heat blazing up around them. They needed to blend in and that meant no glancing around, no staring at things that they had thought they would never see again. People, actual people. Small shops, gardens. Life. Everywhere they saw life. It had to be as if this was what they were used to, this was what they were living with everyday, they weren't people slipping in with a plan. But it was impossible to act natural, it was impossible not to stare when all they saw were the things they both had lost so long ago.

It was hard for Rick. Hard to see these people carrying on as if his entire life hadn't descended into a dark abyss. As if his entire life hadn't fallen apart before his eyes. As if this wasn't the same town that had stood idly by while attacks were made on the prison and everyone he loved had slipped from his fingers. These people of ignorant bliss, not opening their eyes to the darkness and destruction that was rising up outside of these walls. Soon enough it would seep in here, soon enough they would have to be enlightened, they would have to come to grips with the end of the world.

Rick had to know which way to go, which street to go down. Being with Andrea would have helped him with that but he couldn't have followed directly after them that would have caused some kind of suspicion. They were out of sight now and he was on edge over what he could do. This whole thing couldn't end up futile. Everything couldn't fall apart because he didn't know the way. He could only remember the path he'd taken when he'd gotten Daryl out, when they went down to bring back Glenn and Maggie. Everything else was up in the air, where The Governor lived, where he and Andrea would be heading and he couldn't exactly go in busting through doors either, even though he knew that Murphy would have wanted that.

Murphy kept pace with Rick, walking alongside him and looking through windows. He would have given anything to have found this place before, somewhere he and his brother could just live. But now all it seemed to him was a mere mirage of what the world would never again be like. This wasn't real, none of it was. All it was was a lie, a veil to cover the eyes of everyone here and no one could see it. No one knew the darkness that these walls were founded on, the darkness that laid in the head of this town. Or did they? Maybe they were all just too keen on salvaging a relic of the past. Could they be blamed for that?

They finally stopped when Rick did. His eyes were trained on Andrea who was standing in the distance, her blonde hair swept up off her neck now and her hands fidgeting almost nervously at her side. The Governor was standing near her as he spoke to another man. Murphy finally got a good look at this man who had sent people- innocent people- to their deaths, who had ruined one man's entire life with the rapid fire of bullets. He was tall, sinister and yet almost carrying the cool demeanor of a politician. He wore a patch over one eye and the gun glinting at his hip embodied every ounce of danger he possessed. He was standing so close to Andrea he was nearly overwhelming her presence, a domineering way it seemed to have a claim on her. She was a prisoner here just like the everyone else. A prisoner to his violence, a prisoner to their ignorance.

Finally Andrea's eyes caught Rick's and she seemed to take a breath. There was a softness there that mingled with her nerves, her fear. She cared about him and he her. There was a bond there, whether it be death or the fight for survival that connected them. Murphy could sense it and for a moment that comforted him. Rick had someone other than Judith that would keep him sane. That's what being with someone else did for you, it cured you, brought you from the darkness. At least that's what he felt. More sane with Connor, more at ease, more alive. If he was on his own he was sure he would have plunged down the same darkness Rick was heading down. He needed a way to fix that in him and maybe this path, this calling of taking out this Governor was the first step towards it.

Rick caught sight of how Andrea gestured up to the tall building she was standing by. It was such a discreet gesture that he would have missed it had he not been paying attention. Rick nodded and she looked away just as he and Murphy slipped towards the back roads. Neither of them didn't speak for awhile, the quiet chatter of the townspeople filling the air. Just like any other day in a suburban area, just like any other day that would last and last until they finally didn't anymore.

"I think we can slip in through the back of that building." Rick said, his voice full of a calm determination even though the uneasiness was raging rapidly inside of him. He was afraid, in fear that they wouldn't make it out of here alive. Afraid that all of this would be in vain, that he would lose his life in this attempt. He wanted to see his little girl again, wanted to go back there and feel a lightness inside of him that meant he was still alive. He wanted to see that Connor and Murphy would survive this. He wanted so much. But right now he was standing on the precipice of death. If he made one mistake it was all over and the darkness he was pulled into would only worsen.

Murphy merely nodded, not saying a word. He couldn't deny that he was actually excited about this. The last time he had gone on a mission like this had been too far back he almost couldn't remember the details. Connor had been there though, not Rick and he had spoken his prayer. That one prayer that had held his da, his brother and himself together. He glanced at Rick, sighing a little and then looked on ahead at the road they were taking. Would he allow the prayer to be spoken? He bit down on the inside of his cheek and hoped he would. It wouldn't be right if it wasn't done.

They walked until they got to the single backdoor that no doubt led up into the building. Rick hesitated. He knew he could trust Andrea, he knew that she would never do anything to trick him but the thought that The Governor could know, somehow, is what made him hesitate. He had no other choice though but to blindly go on inside. This was his chance and with the twist of the knob he decided he was going to take it no matter what. This was release, this was revenge and it was all his.

The door creaked when he opened it, slipping inside and looking around the dark and cold area. Murphy was at his back and he was alert. His hand slowly cocked back the trigger of his Python, drawing it from his holster and lifting it to keep on guard. He heard Murphy do the same with his weapon. He could hear his breath, his own as it filled up the calm that had settled the darkness around him.

There was a staircase directly in front of the main entrance where he could see Andrea. Her eyes kept glancing in through the small rectangular window, The Governor aside seemingly oblivious to what was happening. Rick sighed as his hand touched to the smooth wood of the railing and carefully he took the first step. One by one he ascended the staircase and he and Murphy finally found themselves in a hallway. There were several opened doors but most seemed breezy, not lived in. There was one though that had a dining table, used dishes on its surface and a pale curtain billowing softly in the breeze.

Looking back at Murphy he nodded towards it and entered it slowly. He checked everywhere, his gun making him feel somewhat at ease. Touching his fingers to the used dishes he could smell the scent of freshly made food and his stomach groaned. Swallowing down harshly he pushed the thought of hunger down and looked over to Murphy.

"What now?" Murphy questioned, his attention going to Rick as he lowered his gun but kept it in hand.

Rick made to answer but stopped when he heard the front door from downstairs opening. He gestured for Murphy to step back and away from the door. Voices danced up to the second floor, The Governor, Andrea, the other man. They weren't alone anymore. When Murphy backed away Rick kept his place and waited until The Governor walked in and saw his face.


	25. Faces

Finally the door opened and Rick stared at the man. Their eyes locked for however long, felt like a damned eternity. He had suffered for so long and this man standing here before him was the whole reason of it. Andrea gasped softly, stepping to the side and the other man seemed as frozen as everyone else. He could hear Murphy behind him, this wasn't what he had thought the plan would be, neither did Rick. He needed this though. Needed to look into this man's eyes and see if the devil himself could be saved, could be cured of the road of murder and torture he had thrown other people down.

Rick was the first to move unlike before. He had waited before and that had gotten people killed. He had thought to take the moral road, the kind of road that left room for The Governor repenting of whatever plans he was making. That hadn't worked. Hadn't he known that back then? That no matter what happened the prison was going to be ripped from him as if it hadn't belonged to him to begin with? Like it hadn't been a place for his group? He wasn't going to surrender it and yet he had allowed it to be ripped so entirely out of his hands it counted as tormenting weakness.

His gun lifted, his finger quickly cocking back the trigger as he kept The Governor in his sights. There wasn't much to do. His hand was shaky, his eyes were full of burdened and unshed tears. Tears that had built up inside of him until they refused to come out. He couldn't bear with the pain, the guilt and the gnawing agony that wouldn't disappear. He was empty, had always been empty. His soul was still lingering broken in the dark walls of the prison, the corpses strewn all around him. He was nothing now, this man had made him and brought him down until he was nothing at all.

No one moved to stop him. Not even The Governor who was wearing a smug smirk on his face, his hands slowly raising in the air. Rick held him with a heavy glare, the gun resting in his hands as if it were meant to always be there. He didn't look at Andrea, didn't look at the man with the glasses or even at Murphy who stood behind him. He wasn't sure why no one was stopping him, why no one even attempted to. This wasn't right, was it? This purely bred dark sense of revenge that wouldn't let up. It had coiled around him and he was at a loss for everything he had planned. Why did the execution of a plan always feel like the hardest thing to do?

"Gonna kill me or are y'gonna stand there thinking about it?" He questioned, a small chuckle lifting with his voice. It was meant to make the others laugh as well but it didn't. No one could. The atmosphere was too tense, too thick. The feeling of anger, of sorrow was so heightened in the room that even The Governor felt nearly stifled by it. It all emanated from Rick, those tired and restless eyes and his trembling hand that was so intent on killing him.

Finally Murphy stepped forward, a gun uncocked in his hands as he moved beside Rick. The tension grew, rose and heightened. This wasn't just a one man assault. This was the culmination of a reckoning that had long since waited. The curse that was finally being brought into fruition. Murphy could see in this man everything that he had hated before all this. When he and Connor had taken the lives of the wicked, when they had given their sin to God. This man was the same, worse even, masked by kindness and drowning in his evil. Say the prayer and set his soul free, let God judge what to do with him.

But Rick wasn't pulling the trigger and that confused him. Why wouldn't he pull the trigger, release the round and let end the nightmare that he had existed in for too long? He had no answers, how could there be any? Rick had waited all this time, had gone through so much to finally come to this point and yet now there was no gunshot, there was no realization. There was nothing but silence. What would happen if he shot him? Would Rick feel cheated? Would he feel like Murphy had stolen something from him? He knew that would be the case and that was why he didn't lift his gun, at least not yet.

"Why? Why us?" Rick forced out the words. They sounded so naive coming out so broken, so lost, so cracked. He stared at the man in front of him, searching for a reason in his eyes. Searching for anything that would make any sense. But he couldn't brush them off, he couldn't put anything else out there that would make sense of all the questions in his head. There were too many. Far too many and the fear of them, the knowledge that this moment right now would only pull him further down into the abyss he had desperately tried to escape from scared him. Scared him until he was nothing at all but a shadow of a man. And right now, he so desperately wanted to this man.

"Well hey now, it wasn't anything personal." The Governor insisted, his words like sharp ice sliding down slowly. His eye was intense, that constant and continual glare filling it. There wasn't hatred but there was humor and that alone was something that Rick hated seeing. Why should this killer be alive? Why should he tread the ground, breathe the air that the people he knew never would? He had torn down and torn apart what could now never again be whole. He had stolen and had yet to offer recompense. There was no possibility for recompense.

He tried to make disappear the thought that everyone was a killer, tried to ignore the realization that refused to leave him. He was a killer. He had mounds of blood forever staining his hands. There wasn't a way to get out of it. How could there be? He had killed, he had ended lives himself. What made him so different from the man standing there in front of him? There was no division, was there? He was the same, the same desperate and empty and ruthless man as the man standing before him. The only difference was that Rick had never stolen from The Governor.

"I'm going to kill you." Rick breathed out, lifting his free hand and using it to settle the one carrying the Python. He was serious. It could be seen in his eyes. Could be seen in the hatred, the pure anger spread on his features. He wanted his blood to flow, he wanted to see life leave his eyes. He wanted to him die the way he had watched his family die. There had been children there, his boy had been there. There hadn't been mercy and so he would get no mercy. The avenger had blood had its way of showing itself. There wasn't a way to get out of this, there wasn't a way to set yourself free from it. There was only death, that was the only end.

"Then do it. Feels like I've been waiting forever." He replied with a smirk and a shake of his head. "But I'm sure you've been waiting a long time as well." His hand slowly reached to his pants, not trying to trick a damned soul. He was in the open, blatant, obvious not caring if a round was fired. Maybe that was why he did it. Maybe standing there and watching Rick he had seen that he hadn't had it in him after all.

And then a shot was heard. Andrea screamed, Murphy shuffled and the man with the glasses stood shocked. The Governor chuckled and Rick fell gasping to the ground.


End file.
